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, 




















































































































































































THE NOVELS AND STORIES OF 
FRANK R. STOCKTON 

1 f THE CAPTAIN’S 
TOLL-CATE * f f 



NEW YORK 

CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS 
1904 



’ c, 

% 


LIBRARY of CONGRESS 
Two Codes Received 

MAY 21 1904 


Csnyrtcht Entry 



g-fi ts 

COPY A 


Copyright, 1903, by D. Appleton and Company 
Copyright, 1904, by Charles Scribner’s Sons 



THE DEVINNE PRESS 






/3-l¥W 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


CHAPTER PAGE 

i Olive 3 

ii Maria Port 10 

hi Mrs. Easterfield 22 

iv The So n of an Old Shipmate . 32 

v Olive Pays Toll 40 

vi Mr. Claude Locker ... 50 

vii The Captain and his Guest Go Fish- 

ings and Come Home Happy . . 59 

viii Captain Asher is not in a Good Humor 67 
ix Miss Port Takes a Drive with the 

Butcher 77 

x Mrs. Easterfield Writes a Letter . 84 

xi Mr. Locker is Released on Bail . 92 

xii Mr. Rupert Hemphill. . . . 101 

xiii Mr. Lancaster’s Backers . . Ill 

xiv A Letter for Olive .... 124 

xv Olive’s Bicycle Trip . . . 130 

xvi Mr. Lancaster Accepts a Mission . 139 

xvii Dick is not a Prompt Bearer of Hews 147 

xviii What Olive Determined to Do . 154 

xix The Captain and Dick Lancaster De- 
sert the Toll-gate .... 164 


v 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 


CHAPTER 

xx Mr. Looker Determines to Rush 

the Enemy’s Position . . .174 

xxi Miss Raleigh Enjoys a Rare Privi- 
lege 181 

xxii The Conflicting Serenades . .191 

xxiii The Captain and Maria . . 204 

xxiv Mr. Tom Arrives at Broadstone . 212 

xxv The Captain and Mr. Tom . . 225 

xxvi A Stop at the Toll-gate . . 237 

xxvii By Proxy 248 

xxviii Here We Go, Lovers Three ! . 259 

xxix Two Pieces of News . . . 271 

xxx By the Sea 276 

xxxi As Good as a Man . . . 285 

xxxii The Stock-market is Safe . . 294 

xxxiii Dick Lancaster does not Write 302 

xxxiv Miss Port Puts in an Appearance 310 

xxxv The Dorcas on Guard . . . 317 

xxxvi Cold Tinder 325 

xxxvii In which Some Great Changes 

are Recorded .... 332 

xxxviii “It has Just Begun !” . . 342 


VI 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 







































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


CHAPTER I 

OLIVE 

A LONG, wide, and smoothly macadamized road 
stretched itself from the considerable town of 
Glenford onward and northward toward a gap in the 
distant mountains. It did not run through a level 
country, but rose and fell as if it had been a line of 
seaweed upon the long swells of the ocean. Upon 
elevated points upon this road, farm-lands and forests 
could be seen extending in every direction. But there 
was nothing in the landscape which impressed itself 
more obtrusively upon the attention of the traveller 
than the road itself. White in the bright sunlight 
and gray under the shadows of the clouds, it was the 
one thing to be seen which seemed to have a decided 
purpose. Northward or southward, toward the gap 
in the long line of mountains or toward the wood- 
encircled town in the valley, it was always going 
somewhere. 

About two miles from the town, and at the top of 
the first long hill which was climbed by the road, a 
tall white pole projected upward against the sky, 
sometimes perpendicularly, and sometimes inclined at 
a slight angle. This was a turnpike gate or bar, and 
gave notice to all in vehicles or on horses that the 
3 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


use of this well-kept road was not free to the travelling 
public. At the approach of persons not known, or 
too well known, the bar would slowly descend across 
the road, as if it were a musket held horizontally while 
a sentinel demanded the password. 

Upon the side of the road opposite to the great post 
on which the toll-gate moved was a little house with 
a covered doorway, from which toll could be collected 
without exposing the collector to sun or rain. This 
tollhouse was not a plain whitewashed shed such as 
is often seen upon turnpike roads, but a neat edifice 
containing a comfortable room. On one side of it was 
a small porch, well shaded by vines, furnished with a 
settle and two arm-chairs, while over all a large maple 
stretched its protecting branches. Back of the toll- 
house was a neatly fenced garden, well filled with old- 
fashioned flowers ; and, still farther on, a good-sized 
house, from which a box-bordered path led through 
the garden to the tollhouse. 

It was a remark that had been made frequently, 
both by strangers and residents in that part of the 
country, that if it had not been for the obvious disad- 
vantages of a toll-gate, this house and garden, with 
its grounds and fields, would be a good enough home 
for anybody. When he happened to hear this remark, 
Captain John Asher, who kept the toll-gate, was wont 
to say that it was a good enough home for him, even 
with the toll-gate and its obvious disadvantages. 

It was on a morning in early summer, when the 
garden had grown to be so red and white and yellow 
in its flowers, and so green in its leaves and stalks, 
that the box which edged the path was beginning to 
be unnoticed, that a girl sat in a small arbor standing 
4 


OLIVE 


on a slight elevation at one side of the garden, and 
from which a view could be had both np and down 
the road. She was rather a slim girl, though tall 
enough ; her hair was dark, her eyes were blue, and 
she sat on the back of a rustic bench, with her feet 
resting upon the seat ; this position she had taken 
that she might the better view the road. 

With both her hands this girl held a small telescope 
which she was endeavoring to fix upon a black spot a 
mile or more away upon the road. It was difficult 
for her to hold the telescope steadily enough to keep 
the object-glass upon the black spot, and she had a 
great deal of trouble in the matter of focussing, pulling 
out and pushing in the smaller cylinder in a manner 
which showed that she was not accustomed to the use 
of this optical instrument. 

“Field-glasses are ever so much better,” she said to 
herself ; “you can screw them to any point you want. 
But now I’ve got it. It is very near that cross-road. 
Good ! it did not turn there ; it is coming along the 
pike, and there will be toll to pay. One horse, seven 
cents.” 

She put down the telescope as if to rest her arm 
and eye. Presently, however, she raised the glass 
again. “Now let us see,” she said. “Uncle John, 
Jane, or me ! ” After directing the glass to a point 
in the air about two hundred feet above the approach- 
ing vehicle, and then to another point half a mile to 
the right of it, she was fortunate enough to catch sight 
of it again. “I don’t know that queer-looking horse,” 
she said. “It must be some stranger, and Jane will 
do. No ; a little boy is driving. Strangers coming 
along this road would not be driven by little boys. 

5 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


I expect I shall have to call Uncle John.” Then she 
put down the glass and rubbed her eye, after which, 
with unassisted vision, she gazed along the road. “I 
can see a great deal better without that old thing,” 
she continued. “There’s a woman in that carriage. 
I’ll go myself.” With this she jumped down from the 
rustic seat, and, with the telescope under her arm, she 
skipped through the garden to the little tollhouse. 

The name of this girl was Olive Asher. Captain 
John Asher, who took the toll, was her uncle, and she 
had now been living with him for about six weeks. 
Olive was what is known in certain social circles as a 
navy girl. About twenty years before she had come 
to her uncle’s she had been born in Genoa, her father 
at the time being a lieutenant on an American war- 
vessel lying in the harbor of Villa Franca. Her first 
school-days were passed in the south of France, and 
she spent some subsequent years in a German school in 
Dresden. Here she was supposed to have finished her 
education ; but when her father’s ship was stationed 
on our Pacific coast, and Olive and her mother went 
to San Francisco, they associated a great deal with 
army people, and here the girl learned so much more 
of real life and her own country people that the few 
years she spent in the far West seemed like a post- 
graduate course, as important to her true education 
as any of the years she had spent in schools. 

After the death of her mother, when Olive was 
about eighteen, the girl had lived with relatives, East 
and West, hoping for the day when her father’s three 
years’ cruise would terminate, and she could go and 
make a home for him in some pleasant spot on shore. 
How, in the course of these family visits, she had come 
6 


OLIVE 


to stay with her father’s brother, John Asher, who 
kept the toll-gate on the Glenford pike. 

Captain John Asher was an older man than his 
brother the naval officer, but he was in the prime of 
life, and able to hold the command of a ship if he had 
cared to do it. But having been in the merchant ser- 
vice for a long time, and having made some money, 
he had determined to leave the sea and to settle on 
shore ; and finding this commodious house by the toll- 
gate, he settled there. There were some people who 
said that he had taken the position of toll-gate-keeper 
because of the house, and there were others who be- 
lieved that he had bought the house on account of 
the toll-gate. But no matter what people thought or 
said, the good captain was very well satisfied with his 
home and his official position. He liked to meet with 
people, and he preferred that they should come to 
him rather than that he should go to them. He was 
interested in most things that were going on in his 
neighborhood, and therefore he liked to talk to the 
people who were going by. Sometimes a good talking 
acquaintance or an interesting traveller would tie his 
horse under the shade of the maple-tree and sit 
awhile with the captain on the little porch. Certain 
it was, it was the most hospitable toll-gate in that 
part of the country. 

There was a road which branched off from the turn- 
pike about a mile from the town, and which, after 
some windings, entered the pike again beyond the 
toll-gate 5 and although this road was not always in 
very good condition, it had seen a good deal of travel, 
which, in time, gave it the name of the shunpike. 
But since Captain Asher had lived at the toll-gate it 
7 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


was remarked that the shunpike was not used as 
much as in former times. There were penurious 
people who had once preferred to go a long way 
round and save money whose economical dispositions 
now gave way before the combined attractions of a 
better road and a chat with Captain Asher. 

It had been predicted by some of her relatives that 
Olive would not be content with her life in her uncle’s 
somewhat peculiar household. He was a bachelor 
and seldom entertained company, and his ordinary 
family consisted of an elderly housekeeper and an- 
other servant. But Olive was not in the least dis- 
satisfied. From her infancy up she had lived so 
much among people that she had grown tired of them ; 
and her good-natured uncle, with his sea stories, the 
garden, the old-fashioned house, the fields and the 
woods beyond, the little stream, which came hurrying 
down from the mountains, where she could fish or 
wade as the fancy pleased her, gave her a taste of 
some of the joys of girlhood which she had not known 
when she was really a girl. 

Another thing that greatly interested her was the 
toll-gate. If she had been allowed to do so, she would 
have spent the greater part of her time taking money, 
making change, and talking to travellers. But this 
her uncle would not permit. He did not object to 
her doing some occasional toll-gate work, and he did 
not wonder that she liked it, remembering how in- 
teresting it often was to himself j but he would not let 
her take toll indiscriminately. 

So they made a regular arrangement about it. 
When the captain was at his meals, or shaving, or 
otherwise occupied, old Jane attended to the toll-gate. 

8 


OLIVE 


At ordinary times, and when any of his special friends 
were seen approaching, the captain collected toll him- 
self, but when women happened to be travelling on 
the road, then it was arranged that Olive should go 
to the gate. 

Two or three times it had happened that some 
young men of the town, hearing their sisters talk of 
the pretty girl who had taken their toll, had thought 
it might be a pleasant thing to drive out on the pike ; 
but their money had always been taken by the cap- 
tain, or else by the wooden-faced Jane, and nothing 
had come of their little adventures. 

The garden hedge which ran alongside the road was 
very high. 


CHAPTER II 


MARIA PORT 

Olive stood impatiently at the door of the little 
tollhouse. In one hand she held three copper cents, 
because she felt almost sure that the person approach- 
ing would give her a dime or two five-cent pieces. 

“I never knew horses to travel so slowly as they do 
on this pike ! ” she said to herself. “How they used 
to gallop on those beautiful roads in France ! ” 

In due course of time the vehicle approached near 
enough to the toll-gate for Olive to take an observa- 
tion of its occupant. This was a middle-aged woman, 
dressed in black, holding a black fan. She wore a 
black bonnet with a little bit of red in it. Her face 
was small and pale, its texture and color suggesting a 
boiled apple-dumpling. She had small eyes of which 
it can be said that they were of a different color from 
her face and were therefore noticeable. Her lips 
were not prominent, and were closely pressed together, 
as if some one had begun to cut a dumpling, but had 
stopped after making one incision. 

This somewhat sombre person leaned forward in the 
seat behind her young driver, and steadily stared at 
Olive. When the horse had passed the toll-bar the 
boy stopped it so that his passenger and Olive were 
face to face and very near each other. 

10 


MARIA PORT 


“Seven cents, please,” said Olive. 

The cleft in the dumpling enlarged itself, and the 
woman spoke. “Bless my soul,” she said, “are you 
Captain Asher’s niece ? ” 

“I am,” said Olive, in surprise. 

“Well, well,” said the other, “that just heats me ! 
When I heard he had his niece with him, I thought 
she was a plain girl with short frocks and her hair 
plaited down her back.” 

Olive did not like this woman. It is wonderful how 
quickly likes and dislikes may be generated. 

“But, you see, I am not,” she replied. “Seven cents, 
please.” 

“Don’t you suppose I know what the toll is?” said 
the woman in the carriage. “I’m sure I’ve travelled 
over this road often enough to know that. But what 
I’m thinkin’ about is the difference between what I 
thought the captain’s niece was and what she 
really is.” 

“It does not make any difference what the differ- 
ence is,” said Olive, speaking quickly and with per- 
haps a little sharpness in her voice ; “all I want is for 
you to pay me the toll.” 

“I’m not goin’ to pay any toll,” said the other. 

Olive’s face flushed. “Little boy,” she exclaimed, 
“back that horse ! ” As the youngster obeyed her 
peremptory request, Olive gave a quick jerk to a rope 
and brought down the toll-gate bar so that it stretched 
itself across the road, barely missing in its downward 
sweep the nose of the unoffending horse. “Now,” said 
Olive, “if you are ready to pay your toll you can go 
through this gate, and if you are not you can turn 
round and go back where you came from.” 

11 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


“Pm not goin’ to pay any toll,” said the other, 
“and I don’t want to go through the gate. I came to 
see Captain Asher. Johnny, turn your horse a little 
and let me get out. Then you can stop in the shade 
of this tree and wait until I’m ready to go back. I 
suppose the captain’s in,” she said to Olive, “but if he 
isn’t I can wait.” 

“Oh, he’s at home,” said Olive, “and, of course, if I 
had known you were coming to see him I would not 
have asked you for your toll. This way, please,” and 
she stepped toward a gate in the garden hedge. 

“When I’ve been here before,” said the visitor, “I 
always went through the tollhouse. But I suppose 
things is different now.” 

“This is the entrance for visitors,” said Olive, hold- 
ing open the gate. 

Captain Asher had heard the voices, and had come out 
to his front door. He shook hands with the newcomer, 
and then turned to Olive, who was following her. 

“This is my niece, my brother Alfred’s daughter,” 
he said ; “and, Olive, let me introduce you to Miss 
Maria Port.” 

“She introduced herself to me,” said Miss Port, 
“and tried to get seven cents out of me by letting 
down the bar so that it nearly broke my horse’s nose. 
But we’ll get to know each other better. She’s very 
different from what I thought she was.” 

“Most people are,” said Captain Asher, as he offered 
a chair to Miss Port in his parlor and sat down oppo- 
site to her. Olive, who did not care to hear herself 
discussed, quietly passed out of the room. 

“Captain,” said Miss Port, leaning forward, “how 
old is she, anyway?” 


12 


MARIA PORT 


“About twenty,” was tbe answer. 

“And bow long is sbe going to stay ? ” 

“All summer, I hope,” said Captain John. 

“Well, sbe won’t do it ; I can tell you that,” re- 
marked Miss Port. “She’ll get tired enough of this 
place before tbe summer’s out.” 

“We shall see about that,” said tbe captain, “but 
sbe is not tired yet.” 

“And her mother’s dead, and she’s wearin’ no 
mournin’.” 

“Why should sbe?” said tbe captain. “It would 
be a shame for a young girl like her to be wearing 
black for two years.” 

“She’s delicate, ain’t sbe?” 

“I have not seen any signs of it.” 
f, “What did her mother die of? ” 

“I never beard,” said tbe captain ; “perhaps it was 
tbe bubonic plague.” 

Miss Port pushed back her chair and drew her 
skirts about her. 

“Horrible ! ” sbe exclaimed. “And you let that 
child come here ! ” 

Tbe captain smiled. “Perhaps it wasn’t that,” be 
said. “It might have been an avalanche, and that is 
not catching.” 

Miss Port looked at him seriously. “It’s a great 
pity she’s so handsome,” she said. 

“I don’t think so ; I am glad of it,” replied the 
captain. 

Miss Port heaved a sigh. “What that girl is goin’ 
to need,” she said, “is a female guardeen.” 

“Would you like to take the place?” asked the 
captain, with a grin. 


13 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


At that instant it might have been supposed that a 
certain dumpling which has been mentioned was made 
of very red apples and that its covering of dough was 
somewhat thin in certain places. Miss Port’s eyes 
were bent for an instant upon the floor. 

“That is a thing/’ she said, “which would need a 
great deal of consideration.” 

A sudden thrill ran through the captain which was 
not unlike a moment in his past career when a gentle 
shudder had run through his ship as its keel grazed 
an unsuspected sand-bar and he had not known 
whether it was going to stick fast or not $ but he 
quickly got himself into deep water again. 

“Oh, she is all right,” said he, briskly $ “she has 
been used to taking care of herself almost ever since 
she was born. And, by the way, Miss Port, did you 
know that Mr. Easterfield is at his home ? ” 

Miss Port was not pleased with the sudden change 
in the conversation, and she remembered, too, that in 
other days it had been the captain’s habit to call her 
Maria. 

“I did not know he had a home,” she answered. 
“I thought it was hern. But since you’ve men- 
tioned it, I might as well say that it was about him I 
came to see you. I heard that he came to town yes- 
terday, and that her carriage met him at the station 
and drove him out to her house. I hoped he had 
stopped a minute as he drove through your toll-gate, 
and that you might have had a word with him, or at 
least a good look at him. Mercy me ! ” she suddenly 
ejaculated, as a look of genuine disappointment spread 
over her face, “I forgot. The coachman would have 
paid the toll as he went to town, and there was no 
14 


MARIA PORT 


need of stoppin’ as they went back. I might have 
saved myself this trip.” 

The captain laughed. “It stands to reason that it 
might have been that way,” he said, “but it wasn’t. 
He stopped, and I talked to him for about five 
minutes.” 

The face of Miss Port now grew radiant, and she 
pulled her chair nearer to Captain Asher. “Tell me,” 
said she, “is he really anybody?” 

“He is a good deal of a body,” answered the cap- 
tain. “I should say he is pretty nearly six feet high, 
and of considerable bigness.” 

“Well ! ” exclaimed Miss Port, “I’d thought he was 
a little dried-up sort of a mummy man that you might 
hang up on a nail and be sure you’d find him when 
you got back. Did he talk ? ” 

“Oh, yes,” said the captain ; “he talked a good deal.” 

“And what did he tell you?” 

“He did not tell me anything, but he asked a lot 
of questions.” 

“What about?” said Miss Port, quickly. 

“Everything. Fishing, gunning, crops, weather, 
people.” 

“Well, well ! ” she exclaimed. “And don’t you 
suppose his wife could have told him all that, and 
she’s been livin’ here— this is the second summer. 
Did he say how long he’s goin’ to stay ? ” 

“No.” 

“And you didn’t ask him?” 

“I told you he asked the questions,” replied the 
captain. 

“Well, I wish I’d been here,” Miss Port remarked 
fervently. “I’d got something out of him.” 

15 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


“No doubt of that,” thought the captain, but he did 
not say so. 

“If he expects to pass himself off as just a common 
man,” continued Miss Port, “that’s goin’ to spend the 
rest of his summer here with his family, he can’t do 
it. He’s first got to explain why he never came near 
that young woman and her two babies for the whole 
of last summer, and, so far as I’ve heard, he was never 
mentioned by her. I think, Captain Asher, that for 
the sake of the neighborhood, if you don’t care about 
such things yourself, you might have made use of this 
opportunity. As far as I know, you’re the only 
person in or about Glenford that’s spoke to him.” 

The captain smiled. “Sometimes, I suppose,” said 
he, “I don’t say enough, and sometimes I say too 
much, but—” 

“Then I wish he’d struck you more on an average,” 
interrupted Miss Port. “But there’s no use talkin’ any 
more about it. I hired a horse and a carriage and a 
boy to come out here this mornin’ to ask you about 
that man. And what’s come of it? You haven’t got 
a single thing to tell anybody, except that he’s big.” 

The captain changed the subject again. “How is 
your father ? ” he asked. 

“Pop’s just the same as he always is,” was the 
answer. “And now, as I don’t want to lose the whole 
of the seventy-five cents I’ve got to pay, suppose you 
call in that niece of yours and let me have a talk 
with her. Perhaps I can get something interesting 
out of her.” 

The captain left the room, but he did not move with 
alacrity. He found Olive with a book in a hammock 
at the back of the house. When he told her his errand, 
16 


MARIA PORT 

she sat up with a sudden bounce, her feet upon the 
ground. 

“Uncle,” she said, “isn’t that woman a horrid 
person ? ” 

The captain was a merry-minded man, and he 
laughed. “It is pretty hard for me to answer that 
question,” said he ; “suppose you go in and find out 
for yourself.” 

Olive hesitated ; she was a girl who had a very high 
opinion of herself and a very low opinion of such a 
person as this Miss Port seemed to be. Why should 
she go in and talk to her? Still undecided, she left 
the hammock and made a few steps toward the house. 
Then, with a sudden exclamation, she stopped and 
dropped her book. 

“Buggy coming,” she exclaimed, “and that thing is 
running to take the toll!” With these words u she 
started away with the speed of a colt. 

An approaching buggy was on the road. Miss Maria 
Port, walking rapidly, had nearly reached the back 
door of the tollhouse when Olive swept by her so 
closely that the wind of her fluttering garments almost 
blew away the breath of the elder woman. 

“Seven cents ! ” cried Olive, standing in the covered 
doorway j but she might have saved herself the trouble 
of repeating this formula, for the man in the buggy 
was not near enough to hear her. 

When Olive saw it was a man, she turned, and 
perceiving her uncle approaching the tollhouse, she 
hurried by him up the garden path, looking neither 
to the right nor to the left. 

“A pretty girl that is of yours ! ” exclaimed Miss Port. 
“She might just as well have slapped me in the face ! ” 
17 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


“But what were you going to do in here?” asked 
Captain Asher. “You know that’s against the rules.” 

“The rules be bothered ! ” replied the irate Maria. 
“I thought it was Mr. Smiley. He’s been away 
from his parish for a week, and there are a good many 
things I want to ask him.” 

“Well, it is the Roman Catholic priest from Marlins- 
ville,” said Captain Asher, “and he wouldn’t tell you 
anything, if you asked him.” 

The captain had a cheerful little chat with the 
priest, who was one of his most valued road friends j 
and when he returned to his garden he found Miss 
Port walking up and down the main path in a state 
of agitation. 

“I should think,” said she, “that the company 
would have something to say about your takin’ up 
your time talkin’ to people on the road. I’ve heard 
that sometimes they get out and spend hours talkin’ 
and smokin’ with you. I guess that’s against the 
rules.” 

“It is all right between the company and me,” re- 
plied the captain. “You know, I am a stockholder 
in a small way.” 

“You are ! ” exclaimed Miss Port. “Well, I’ve got 
somethin’ by cornin’ here, anyway.” Stowing away 
this bit of information in regard to the captain’s re- 
sources in her mind for future consideration, she con- 
tinued : “I don’t think much of that niece of yourn. 
Has she never lived anywhere where the people had 
good manners ? ” 

Olive, who had gone to her room in order to be out 
of the way of this queer visitor, now sat by an upper 
window, and it was impossible that she should fail to 
18 


MARIA PORT 


hear this remark, made by Miss Port in her most 
querulous tones. Olive immediately left the window 
and sat down on the other side of the room. 

“Good manners ! ” she ejaculated, and fell to think- 
ing. Her present situation had suddenly presented 
itself to her in a very different light from that in 
which she had previously regarded it. She was living 
in a very plain house in a very plain way, with a very 
plain uncle who kept a tollhouse ; but she liked him, 
and, until this moment, she had liked the life. But 
now she asked herself if it were possible for her longer 
to endure it if she were to be condemned to inter- 
course with people like that thing down in the garden. 
If her uncle’s other friends in Glenford were of that 
grade she could not stay here. She smiled, in spite 
of her irritation, as she thought of the woman’s words 
—“anywhere where the people had good manners.” 

Good manners, indeed ! She remembered the titled 
young officers in Germany with whom she had talked 
and danced when she was but seventeen years old, 
and who used to send her flowers. She remembered 
the people of rank in the army and navy and in the 
state who used to invite her mother and herself to 
their houses. She remembered the royal prince who 
had wished to be presented to her, and whose acquaint- 
ance she had declined because she did not like what 
she had heard of him. She remembered the good 
friends of her father in Europe and America, ladies 
and gentlemen of the army and navy. She remem- 
bered the society in which she had mingled when 
living with her Boston aunt during the past winter. 
Then she thought of Miss Port’s question. Good 
manners, indeed ! 


19 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


“Well/’ said the perturbed Maria, after having been 
informed by the captain that his niece was accustomed 
to move in the best circles, “I don’t want to go into 
the house again, for if I was to meet her I’m sure I 
couldn’t keep my temper. But I’ll say this to you, 
Captain Asher ; that I pity the woman that’s her 
guardeen. And now, if you’ll help my boy turn round 
so he won’t upset the carriage, I’ll be goin’. But 
before I go I’ll just say this : that if you’d been in the 
habit of takin’ advantage of the chances that come to 
you, I believe that you’d be a good deal better off 
than you are now, even if you do own shares in the 
turnpike company.” 

It was not difficult for the captain to recognize 
some of the chances to which she alluded ; one of them 
she herself had offered him several times. 

“Oh, I am very well off as I am,” he answered ; “but 
perhaps some day I may have something to tell you 
of the Easterfields and about their doings up on the 
mountain.” 

“About her doin’s, you might as well say,” retorted 
Miss Port. “No matter what you tell me, I don’t 
believe a word about his ever doin’ anything.” With 
this she walked to the little phaeton, into which the 
captain helped her. 

“Uncle John,” said Olive, a few minutes later, “are 
there many people like that in Glenford ! ” 

“My dear child,” said the captain, “the people in 
Glenford, the most of them, I mean, are just as nice 
people as you would want to meet. They are ladies 
and gentlemen, and they are mighty good company. 
They don’t often come out here, to be sure, but I 
know most of them, and I ought to be ashamed of 
20 


MARIA PORT 


myself that I have not made you acquainted with 
them before this. As to Maria Port, there is only one 
of her in Glenford, and, so far as I know, there isn’t 
another just like her in the whole world. Now I come 
to think of it,” he continued, “I wonder why some of 
the young people have not come out to call on you. 
But if that Maria Port has been going around telling 
them that you are a little girl in short frocks, it is not 
so surprising.” 

“Oh, don’t bother yourself, Uncle John, about calls 
and society,” said Olive. “If you can only manage 
that that woman takes the shunpike whenever she 
drives this way, I shall be perfectly satisfied with 
everything just as it is.” 


21 


CHAPTER III 


MES. EASTERFIELD 

On the side of the mountain, a few miles to the 
west of the gap to which the turnpike stretched itself, 
there was a large estate and a large house which had 
once belonged to the Sudley family. For a hundred 
years or more the Sudleys had been important people 
in this part of the country, but it had been at least 
two decades since any of them had lived on this estate. 
Some of them had gone to cities and towns, and others 
had married, or in some other fashion had melted 
away, so that their old home knew them no more. 

Although it was situated on the borders of the 
Southern country, the house, which was known as 
Broadstone, from the fact that a great flat rock on the 
level of the surrounding turf extended itself for many 
feet at the front of the principal entrance, was not 
constructed after ordinary Southern fashions. Some 
of the early Sudleys were of English blood and pro- 
clivities, and so it was partly like an English house ; 
some of them had taken Continental ideas into the 
family, and there was a certain solidity about the 
walls ; while here and there the narrowness of 
the windows suggested southern Europe. Some parts 
of the great stone walls had been stuccoed, and some 
22 


MRS. EASTERFIELD 


had been whitewashed. Here and there vines climbed 
up the walls and stretched themselves under the eaves. 
As the house stood on a wide bluff, there was a lawn 
from which one could see over the tree-tops the wind- 
ing river sparkling far below. There were gardens 
and fields on the open slopes, and beyond these the 
forests rose to the top of the mountains. 

The ceilings of the house were high, and the halls 
and rooms were wide and airy. The trees on the edge 
of the woods seemed always to be rustling in a wind 
from one direction or another, and a lady, Mrs. Easter- 
field, who several years before had been travelling in 
that part of the country, declared that Broadstone 
was the most delightful place for a summer residence 
that she had ever seen, either in this country or across 
the ocean. So, with the consent and money of 
her husband, she had bought the estate the summer 
before the time of our story, and had gone there to 
live. 

Mr. Easterfield was what is known as a railroad 
man, and held high office in many companies and 
organizations. When his wife first went to Broad- 
stone he was obliged to spend the summer in Europe, 
and had agreed with her that the estate on the moun- 
tains would be the best place for her and the two little 
girls while he was away. This state of affairs had oc- 
casioned a good deal of talk, especially in Glenford, a 
town with which the Easterfields had but little to do, 
and which, therefore, had theorized much in order to 
explain to its own satisfaction the conduct of a com- 
paratively young married woman who was evidently 
rich enough to spend her summers at any of the most 
fashionable watering-places, but who chose to go with 
23 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


her young family to that old barracks of a house, and 
wjio had a husband who never came near her or his 
children, and who, so far as the Glenford people knew, 
she never mentioned. 

Mrs. Margaret Easterfield was a very fine woman 
both to look at and to talk to, but she did not believe 
that her duty to her fellow-beings demanded that she 
should devote her first summer months at her new 
place to the gratification of the eyes and ears of her 
friends and acquaintances, so she had gone to Broad- 
stone with her family,— all females,— with servants 
enough, and for the whole of the summer they had all 
been very happy. 

But, this summer, things were going to be a little 
different at Broads tone, for Mrs. Easterfield had ar- 
ranged for some house -parties. Her husband was 
very kind and considerate about her plans, and prom- 
ised her that he would make one of the good company 
at Broadstone whenever it was possible for him to 
do so. 

So now it happened that he had come to see his 
wife and children and the house in which they lived j 
and having had some business at a railroad centre in 
the South, he had come through Glenford, which was 
unusual, as the intercourse between Broadstone and 
the great world was generally maintained through the 
gap in the mountains. 

With his wife by his side and a little girl on each 
shoulder, Mr. Tom Easterfield walked through the 
grounds and the gardens and out on the lawn, and 
looked down over the tops of the trees upon the river 
which sparkled far below, and he said to his wife that 
if she would let him do it he would send a landscape- 
24 


MRS. EASTERFIELD 


gardener, with a great company of Italians, and they 
would make the place a perfect paradise in about five 
days. 

“It could be ruined a great deal quicker by an army 
of locusts,” she said, “and so, if you do not mind, I 
think I will wait for the locusts.” 

It was not time yet for any of the members of the 
house-parties to make their appearance, and it was 
the general desire of his family that Mr. Easterfield 
should remain until some of the visitors arrived, but 
he could not gratify them. Three days after his ar- 
rival he was obliged to be in Atlanta ; and so, soon 
after breakfast one fine morning, the Easterfield car- 
riage drove over the turnpike to the Glenford station, 
Mr. and Mrs. Easterfield on the back seat, and the two 
little girls sitting opposite, their feet sticking out 
straight in front of them. 

When they stopped at the toll-gate Captain Asher 
came down to collect the toll— ten cents for two horses 
and a carriage. Olive was sitting in the little arbor, 
reading. She had noticed the approaching equipage 
and saw that there was a lady in it, but, for some reason 
or other, she was not so anxious as she had been to col- 
lect toll from ladies. If she could have arranged the 
matter to suit herself, she would have taken toll from 
the male travellers, and her TJncle John might attend 
to the women ; she did not believe that men would 
have such absurd ideas about people or ask ridiculous 
questions. 

There was no conversation at the gate on this occa- 
sion, for the carriage was a little late ; but as it rolled 
on, Mrs. Margaret said to Mr. Tom : 

“It seems to me as though I have just had a glimpse 
25 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


of Dresden. What do you suppose could have sug- 
gested that city to me 1 ” 

Mr. Tom could not imagine, unless it was the dust. 
She laughed, and said that he had dust and ballast 
and railroads on the brain j and when the oldest little 
girl asked what that meant, Mrs. Margaret told her 
that the next time her father came home she would 
make him sit down on the floor, and then she would 
draw on that great bald spot of his head, which they 
had so often noticed, a map of the railroad lines in 
which he was concerned, and then his daughters would 
understand why he was always thinking of railroad- 
tracks and that sort of thing with the inside of his 
head, which, as she had told them, was that part of a 
person with which he did his thinking. 

“Don’t they sell some sort of annual or monthly 
tickets for this turnpike ? ” asked Mr. Tom. “ If they 
do, you would save yourself the trouble of stopping 
to pay toll and make change.” 

“I so seldom use this road,” she said, “that it would 
not be worth while. One does not stop on returning, 
you know.” 

But, notwithstanding this speech, when Mrs. Easter- 
field returned from the Glenford station, one little 
girl sitting beside her and the other one opposite, 
both of them with their feet sticking out, she or- 
dered her coachman to stop when he reached the 
toll-gate. 

Olive was still sitting in the arbor, reading. The 
captain was not visible, and the wooden-faced Jane, 
noticing that the travellers were a lady and two little 
girls, did not consider that she had any right to inter- 
fere with Miss Olive’s prerogatives ; so that young lady 
26 


MRS. EASTERFIELD 

felt obliged to go to the toll-gate to see what was 
wanted. 

“You know you do not have to pay going back,” 
she said. 

“I know that,” answered Mrs. Easterfield, “but I want 
to ask about tickets, or monthly payments of toll, or 
whatever your arrangements are for that sort of thing.” 

“I really do not know,” said Olive, “but I will go 
and ask about it.” 

“But stop one minute,” exclaimed Mrs. Easterfield, 
leaning over the side of the carriage. “Is it your 
father who keeps this toll-gate ? ” 

For some reason or other which she could not have 
explained to herself, Olive felt that it was incumbent 
upon her to assert herself, and she answered : “Oh, no, 
indeed. My father is Lieutenant- Commander Alfred 
Asher of the cruiser Hopatcong .” 

Without another word, Mrs. Easterfield pushed open 
the door of the carriage and stepped to the ground, 
exclaiming : “As I passed this morning I knew there 
was something about this place that brought back to 
my mind old times and old friends, and now I see 
what it was. It was you ! I caught but one glimpse 
of you and I did not know you. But it was enough. 
I knew your father very well when I was a girl, and 
later I was with him and your mother in Dresden. 
You were a girl of twelve or thirteen, going to school, 
and I never saw much of you. But it is either your 
father or your mother that I saw in your face as you 
sat in that arbor, and I knew the face, although I did 
not know who owned it. I am Mrs. Easterfield, but 
that will not help you to know me, for I was not 
married when I knew your father.” 

27 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


Olive’s eyes sparkled as she took the two hands 
extended to her. “I don’t remember you at all/’ she 
said, “but if you are the friend of my father and 
mother—” 

“Then I am to be your friend, isn’t it? ” interrupted 
Mrs. Easterfield. 

“I hope so,” answered Olive. 

“Now, then,” said Mrs. Easterfield, “I want you to 
tell me how in the world you come to be here.” 

There were two stools in the tollhouse, and Olive, 
having invited her visitor to seat herself on the better 
one, took the other, and told Mrs. Easterfield how she 
happened to be there. 

“And that handsome elderly man who took the toll 
this morning is your uncle ? ” 

“Yes ; my father’s only brother,” said Olive. 

“A good deal older,” said Mrs. Easterfield. 

“Oh, yes, but I do not know how much.” 

“And you call him captain. Was he also in the 
navy ? ” 

“No,” said Olive ; “he was in the merchant service, 
and has retired. It seems queer that he should be 
keeping a toll-gate, but my father has often told me 
that Uncle John does not care for appearances, and 
likes to do things that please him. He likes to keep 
the tollhouse because it brings him in touch with the 
world.” 

“Very sensible in him,” said Mrs. Easterfield. “I 
think I would like to keep a toll-gate myself.” 

Captain Asher had seen the carriage stop, and knew 
that Mrs. Easterfield was talking to Olive, but he did 
not think himself called upon to intrude upon them. 
But now it was necessary for him to go to the toll- 
28 


MRS. EASTERFIELD 


house. Two men in a buggy with a broken spring, 
and a coffee -bag laid over the loins of an imperfectly 
set-up horse, had been waiting for nearly a minute 
behind Mrs. Easterfield’s carriage, desiring to pay 
their toll and pass through. So the captain went out 
of the garden gate, collected the toll from the two 
men, and directed them to go round the carriage and 
pass on in peace, which they did. 

Then Mrs. Easterfield rose from her stool, and ap- 
proached the tollhouse door, and, as a matter of course, 
the captain was obliged to step forward and meet her. 
Olive introduced him to the lady, who shook hands 
with him very cordially. 

“I have found the daughter of an old friend, 1 ” said 
she, and then they all went into the tollhouse again, 
where the two ladies reseated themselves, and after 
some explanatory remarks Mrs. Easterfield said : 

“Now, Captain Asher, I must not stay here blocking 
up your toll-gate all the morning, but I want to ask 
of you a very great favor. I want you to let your 
niece come and make me a visit. I want a good visit 
—at least ten days. You must remember that her 
father and I, and her mother, too, were very good 
friends. Now there are so many things I want to talk 
over with Miss Olive, and I am sure you will let me 
have her just for ten short days. There are no guests 
at Broadstone yet, and I want her. You do not know 
how much I want her.” 

Captain Asher stood up, tall and strong, his broad 
shoulders resting against the frame of the open door- 
way. It was a positive delight to him to stand thus 
and look at such a beautiful woman. So far as he 
could see, there was nothing about her with which to 
29 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


find fault. If she had been a ship he would have said 
that her lines were perfect, spars and rigging just as 
he would have them. In addition to her other per- 
fections, she was large enough. The captain con- 
sidered himself an excellent judge of female beauty, 
and he had noticed that a great many fine women 
were too small. With Olive’s personal appearance he 
was perfectly satisfied, although she was slight, but 
she was young, and would probably expand. If he 
had had a daughter he would have liked her to re- 
semble Mrs. Easterfield, but that feeling did not mili- 
tate in the least against Olive. In his mind it was 
not necessary for a niece to be quite as large as a 
daughter ought to be. 

“But what does Olive say about it?” he asked. 

“I have not been asked yet,” replied Olive, “but it 
seems to me that I—” 

“Would like to doit,” interrupted Mrs. Easterfield. 
“How, isn’t that so, dear Olive?” 

The girl looked at the captain. “It depends upon 
what you say about it, Uncle John.” 

The captain slightly knitted his brows. “If it were 
for one night, or perhaps a couple of days,” he said, 
“it would be different. But what am I to do without 
Olive for nearly two weeks? I am just beginning to 
learn what a poor place my house would be without 
her.” 

At this minute a man upon a rapidly trotting pony 
stopped at the toll-gate. 

“Excuse me one minute,” continued the captain ; 
“here is a person who cannot wait ” ; and, stepping 
outside, he said good morning to a bright-looking 
young fellow riding a sturdy pony and wearing on his 
30 


MRS. EASTERFIELD 

cap a metal plate engraved “United States Rural 
Delivery.” 

The carrier brought but one letter to the tollhouse, 
and that was for Captain Asher himself. As the man 
rode away the captain thought he might as well open 
his letter before he went back. This would give the 
ladies a chance to talk further over the matter. He 
read the letter, which was not long, put it in his 
pocket, and then entered the tollhouse. There was 
now no doubt or sign of disturbance on his features. 

“I have considered your invitation, madam,” said 
he, “and as I see Olive wants to visit you, I shall not 
interfere.” 

“Of course she does,” cried Mrs. Easterfield, spring- 
ing to her feet, “and I thank you ever and ever so 
much, Captain Asher. And now, my dear,” said she 
to Olive, “I am going to send the carriage for you 
to-morrow morning.” And with this she put her arm 
around the girl and kissed her. Then, having warmly 
shaken hands with the captain, she departed. 

“Do you know, Uncle John,” said Olive, “I believe 
if you were twenty years older she would have kissed 
you.” 

With a grim smile the captain considered. Would 
he have been willing to accept those additional years 
under the circumstances ? He could not immediately 
make up his mind, and contented himself with the 
reflection that Olive did not think him old enough 
for the indiscriminate caresses of young people. 


31 


CHAPTER IV 


THE SON OF AN OLD SHIPMATE 

When Olive came down to breakfast the next morn- 
ing she half repented that she had consented to go 
away and leave her uncle for so long a time. But 
when she made known her state of mind the captain 
laughed at her. 

“My child/ 7 said he, “I want you to go. Of course 
I did not take to the notion at first, but I did not 
consider then what you will have to tell when you 
come home. The people of Glenford will be your 
everlasting debtors. It might be a good thing to 
invite Maria Port out here. You could give her the 
best time she ever had in her life, telling her about 
the Broadstone people. 77 

“Maria Port, indeed ! 77 said Olive. “But we won 7 t 
talk of her. And you really are willing I should go ? 77 

“I speak the truth when I say I want you to go, 77 
replied the captain. 

Whereupon Olive assured him that he was truly a 
good uncle. 

After the Easterfield carriage had rolled away with 
Olive alone on the back seat, waving her handker- 
chief, the captain requested Jane to take entire charge 
of the toll-gate for a time 5 and having retired to his 
32 


THE SON OF AN OLD SHIPMATE 


own room, lie took from his pocket the letter he had 
received the day before. 

“I must write an answer to this,” he said, “before 
the postman comes.” 

The letter was from one of the captain’s old ship- 
mates, Captain Richard Lancaster, the best friend he 
had had when he was in the merchant service. Cap- 
tain Lancaster had often been asked by his old friend 
to visit him at the toll-gate, but, being married and 
rheumatic, he had never accepted the invitation. 
But now he wrote that his son Dick had planned a 
holiday trip which would take him through Glenford, 
and that, if it suited Captain Asher, the father would 
accept for the son the long-standing invitation. Cap- 
tain Lancaster wrote that as he could not go himself 
to his old friend Asher, the next best thing would be 
for his son to go, and when the young man returned 
he could tell his father all about Captain Asher. 
There would be something in that like old times. 
Besides, he wanted his former shipmate to know his 
son Lick, who was, in his eyes, a very fine young 
fellow. 

“There never was such a lucky thing in the world,” 
said Captain Asher to himself, when he had finished 
rereading the letter. “Of course I want to have Lick 
Lancaster’s son here, but I could not have had him if 
Olive had been here. But now it is all right. The 
young fellow can stay here a few days, and he will be 
gone before she gets back. If I like him I can ask 
him to come again ; but that’s my business. Hand- 
some women, like that Mrs. Easterfield, always bring 
good luck. I have noticed that many and many a 
time.” 


33 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


Then he set himself to work to write a letter to 
invite young Kichard Lancaster to spend a few days 
with him. 

For the rest of that day, and the greater part of 
the next, Captain Asher gave a great deal of thinking 
time to the consideration of the young man who was 
about to visit him, and of whom, personally, he knew 
very little. He was aware that Captain Lancaster 
had a son and no other children, and he was quite 
sure that this son must now be a grown-up young 
man. He remembered very well that Captain Lan- 
caster was a fine young fellow when he first knew him, 
and he did not doubt at all that the son resembled the 
father. He did not believe that young Dick was a 
sailor, because he and old Dick had often said to each 
other that if they married their sons should not go 
to sea. Of course he was in some business ; and Cap- 
tain Lancaster ought to be well able to give him a 
good start in life— just as able as he himself was to 
give Olive a good start in housekeeping when the 
time came. 

“Now what in the name of common sense,” ejacu- 
lated Captain Asher, “did I think of that for? What 
has he to do with Olive, or Olive with him ? ” And 
then he said to himself, thinking of the young man in 
the bosom of his family and without reference to any- 
body outside of it: “Yes, his father must be pretty 
well off. He did a good deal more trading than ever 
I did. But, after all, I don’t believe he invested his 
money any better than I did mine, and it is just as 
like as not, if we were to show our hands, that Olive 
would get as much as Dick’s son. There it is again ! 
I can’t keep my mind off the thing.” And as he 
34 


THE SON OF AN OLD SHIPMATE 


spoke lie knocked the ashes out of his pipe and began 
to stride up and down the garden walk $ and as he did 
so he began to reproach himself. 

What right had he to think of his niece in that 
way f It was not doing the fair thing by her father, 
and perhaps by her, for that matter. For all he knew 
she might be engaged to somebody out West or down 
East, or in some other part of the world where she 
had lived. But this idea made very little impression 
on him. Knowing Olive as he did, he did not believe 
that she was engaged to anybody anywhere ; he did 
not want to think that she was the kind of girl who 
would conceal her engagement from him, or who could 
do it, for that matter. But, everything considered, he 
was very glad Olive had gone to Broadstone, for, what- 
ever the young fellow might happen to be, he wanted 
to know all about him before Olive met him. 

Captain Asher firmly believed that there was noth- 
ing of the matchmaker in his disposition $ but, not- 
withstanding this estimate of himself, he went on 
thinking of Olive and the son of his old shipmate, 
both separately and together. He had never said to 
anybody, nor intimated to anybody, that he was 
going to give any of his moderate fortune to his niece. 
In fact, before this visit to him he had not thought 
much about it, nor did it enter his mind that Olive’s 
Boston aunt, her mother’s sister, had favored this visit 
of the girl to her toll-gate uncle, hoping that he might 
think about it. 

In consequence of these cogitations, and in spite of 
the fact that he despised matchmaking, Captain Asher 
was greatly interested in the coming advent of his 
shipmate’s son. 


35 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


When the same phaeton, the same horse, and the 
same boy that had brought Maria Port to the toll- 
house conveyed there a young man with two valises, 
one rather large, Captain Asher did not hurry from 
the house to meet his visitor. He had seen him com-' 
ing, and had preferred to stand in his doorway and 
take a preliminary observation of him. Having taken 
this, Captain Asher was obliged to confess to himself 
that he was disappointed. 

The first cause of his disappointment was the fact 
that the young man wore a colored shirt and no vest, 
and a yellow leather belt. How Captain Asher for 
the greater part of his active life had worn colored 
shirts, sometimes very dark ones, with no vests ; but 
he had not supposed that a young man coming to a 
house where there was a young lady accustomed to 
the best society would present himself in such attire. 
The captain instantly remembered that his visitor 
could not know that there was a young lady at the 
house, but this did not satisfy him. Such attire was 
not respectful, even to him. The leather belt espe- 
cially offended him. The captain was not aware of the 
neglige summer fashions for men which then prevailed. 

The next thing that disappointed him was that 
young Lancaster, seen across the garden, did not ap- 
pear to be the strapping young fellow he had expected 
to see. He was moderately tall and moderately 
broad, and handled his valise with apparent ease, but 
he did not look as though he were his father’s son. 
Dick Lancaster had married the daughter of a cap- 
tain when he was only a second mate, and that piece 
of good fortune had been generally attributed to his 
good looks. 


36 


THE SON OF AN OLD SHIPMATE 


But these observations and reflections occupied a 
very short time, and Captain Asher walked quickly 
to meet his visitor. As he stepped out of the garden 
gate he was disappointed again. The young man’s 
trousers were turned up above his shoes. The weather 
was not wet, there was no mud, and if Dick Lan- 
caster’s son had not bought a pair of ready-made trou- 
sers that were too long for him, why should he turn 
them up in that ridiculous way ? 

In spite of these first impressions, the captain gave 
his old friend’s son a hearty welcome, and took him 
into the house. After dinner he subjected the young 
man to a crucial test : he asked him if he smoked. If 
the visitor had answered in the negative he would 
have dropped still further in the captain’s estimation. 
It was not that the captain had any theories in regard 
to the sanitary advantages or disadvantages of to- 
bacco ; he simply remembered that nearly all the 
rascals with whom he had been acquainted had been 
eager to declare that they never used tobacco in any 
form, and that nearly all the good fellows he had 
known enjoyed their pipes. In fact, he could not see 
how good fellowship could be maintained without 
good talk and good tobacco, so he waited with an 
anxious interest for his guest’s answer. 

“Oh, yes,” said he, “I am fond of a smoke, especially 
in company ” ; and so, having risen several inches in 
the good opinion of his host, he followed him to the 
little arbor in the garden. 

“Now, then,” said Captain Asher, when his pipe 
was alight, “you have told me a great deal about your 
father ; now tell me something about yourself. I do 
not even know what your business is.” 

37 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


“I am Assistant Professor of Theoretical Mathe- 
matics in Sutton College,” answered the young man. 

Captain Asher put down his pipe and gazed at his 
visitor across the arbor. This answer was so different 
from anything he had expected that for the moment 
he could not express his astonishment, and was obliged 
to content himself with asking where Sutton College 
was. 

“It is what they call a fresh- water college/’ replied 
the young man, “and I do not wonder that you do 
not know where it is. It is near our town. I gradu- 
ated there and received my present appointment 
about three years ago. I was then twenty-seven.” 

“Your father was good at mathematics,” said Cap- 
tain Asher. “He was a great hand at calculations, 
but he went in for practice, as I did, and not for 
theories. I suppose there are other professors who 
teach regular working mathematics.” 

“Oh, yes,” replied the young man, with a smile; 
“there is the Professor of Applied Mathematics, but 
of course the thorough student wants to understand 
the theories on which his practice is to be based.” 

“I f do not see why he should,” replied the other. 
“If a good ship is launched for me, I don’t care any- 
thing about the stocks she slides off of.” 

“Perhaps not,” said Lancaster, “but somebody has 
to think about them.” 

In the afternoon Captain Asher showed his visitor 
his little farm, and took him out fishing. During 
these recreations he refrained, as far as possible, from 
asking questions, for he did not wish the young man 
to suppose that for any reason he had been sent there 
to undergo an examination. But in the evening he 
38 


THE SON OF AN OLD SHIPMATE 


could not help talking about the college, not in refer- 
ence to the work and life of the students, a subject 
that did not interest him, but in regard to the work 
and the prospects of the faculty. 

“What does your president teach f ” he asked. “I 
believe all presidents have charge of some branch or 
other.” 

“Oh, yes,” said Lancaster ; “our president is Pro- 
fessor of Mental and Moral Philosophy.” 

“I thought it would be something of the kind,” 
said the captain to himself. “Even the head Professor 
of Mathematical Theories would never get to the top 
of the heap. He is not useful enough for that.” 

After he had gone to bed that night Captain Asher 
found himself laughing about the events of the day. 
He could not help it when he remembered now his 
mind had been almost constantly occupied with a 
consideration of his old shipmate’s son with reference 
to his brother’s daughter. And when he remembered 
that neither of these two young people had ever seen 
or heard of the other, it is not surprising that he 
laughed a little. 

“It’s none of my business, anyway,” thought the 
captain, “and I might as well stop bothering my head 
about it. I suppose I might as well tell him about 
Olive, for it is nothing I need keep secret. But first 
I’ll see how long he is going to stay. It’s none of his 
business, anyway, whether I have a niece staying with 
me or not.” 


39 


CHAPTER Y 


OLIVE PAYS TOLL 

It is needless to say that Olive was charmed with 
Broadstone ; with its mistress ; with the two little 
girls ; with the woods ; the river ; the mountains ; and 
even the sky, which seemed different from that same 
sky when viewed from the tollhouse. She was charmed 
also with the rest of the household, which was differ- 
ent from anything of that kind that she had known, 
being composed entirely, with the exception of some 
servants, of women and little girls. Olive, accustomed 
all her life to men, men, men, grew rapturous over 
this Amazonian paradise. 

“ Don’t be too enthusiastic,” said Mrs. Easterfield ; 
“for a while you may like fresh butter without salt, 
but the longing for the condiment will be sure to 
come.” 

There was Mrs. Blynn, the widow of a clergyman, 
with dark-brown eyes and white hair, who*was always 
in a good humor, who acted as the general manager 
of the household, and also as particular friend to any 
one in the house who needed her services in that way. 
Then there was Miss Raleigh, who was supposed to 
be Mrs. Easterfield’s secretary. She was a slender 
spinster of forty or more, with sad eyes and very fine 
40 


OLIVE PAYS TOLL 


teeth. She had dyspeptic proclivities, and never 
differed with anybody except in regard to her own 
diet. She seldom wrote for Mrs. Easterfield, for that 
lady did not like her handwriting, and she did not 
understand the use of the typewriter ; nor did she read 
to the lady of the house, for Mrs. Easterfield could not 
endure to have anybody read to her. But in all the 
other duties of a secretary she made herself very use- 
ful. She saw that the books, which every morning 
were found lying about the house, were put in their 
proper places on the shelves, and, if necessary, she 
dusted them ; if she saw a book turned upside down 
she immediately set it up properly. She was also ex- 
pected to exert a certain supervision over the books 
the little girls were allowed to look at. She was an 
excellent listener and an appropriate smilerj Mrs. 
Easterfield frequently said that she never knew Miss 
Raleigh to smile in the wrong place. She took a 
regular walk every day, eight times up and down the 
whole length of the lawn. 

Mrs. Easterfield gave herself almost entirely to the 
entertainment of her guest. They roamed over the 
grounds ; they found the finest points of view, at which 
Olive was expert, being a fine climber ; and they 
tramped for long distances along the edge of the 
woods, where together they killed a snake. Mrs. 
Easterfield also allowed Olive the great privilege of 
helping her work in her garden of nature. This was 
a wide bed which was almost entirely shaded by two 
large trees. The peculiarity about this bed was that 
its mistress carefully pulled up all the flowering plants 
and cultivated the weeds. 

“You see,” said she to Olive, “I planted here a lot 
41 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


of flower-seeds which I thought would thrive in the 
shade, but they did not, and after a while I found that 
they were all spindling and puny -looking, while the 
weeds were growing as if they were out in the open 
sunshine ; so I have determined to acknowledge the 
principle of the survival of the fittest, and whenever 
anything that looks like a flower shows itself I jerk it 
out. I also thin out all but the best weeds. I hoe 
and rake the others, and water them if necessary. 
Look at that splendid Jamestown weed— here they 
call it jimson weed ; did you ever see anything finer 
than that with its great white blossoms and dark- 
green leaves ? I expect it to be twice as large before 
the summer is over. And all these others. See how 
graceful they are, and what delicate flowers some of 
them have ! ” 

“I wonder,” said Olive, “if I should have had the 
strength of mind to pull up my flowers and leave my 
weeds.” 

“The more you think about it,” said Mrs. Easter- 
field, “the more you like weeds. They have such fine 
physiques, and they don’t ask anybody to do anything 
for them. They are independent, like self-made men, 
and come up of themselves. They laugh at disad- 
vantages, and even bricks and flagstones will not keep 
them down.” 

“But, after all,” said Olive, “give me the flowers 
that cannot take care of themselves.” And she turned 
toward a bed of carnations, bright under the morning 
sun. 

“Do you suppose, little girl,” said Mrs. Easterfield, 
following her, “that I do not like flowers because I 
do like weeds ! Everything in its place $ weeds are 
42 


OLIVE PAYS TOLL 


for the shady spots, but I keep my flowers out of such 
places— this flower, for instance,” touching Olive on 
the cheek. “And now let us go into the house and 
see what pleasant thing we can find to do there.” 

In the afternoon the two ladies went out rowing on 
the river, and Mrs. Easterfield was astonished at 
Olive’s proficiency with the oar. She had thought 
herself a good oarswoman, but she was nothing to 
Olive. She good-naturedly acknowledged her in- 
feriority, however. How could she expect to com- 
pete with a navy girl ? she said. 

“Are you fond of swimming?” asked Olive, as she 
looked down into the bright, clear water. 

“Oh, very,” said Mrs. Easterfield. “But I am not 
allowed to swim in this river. It is considered dan- 
gerous.” 

Olive looked up in surprise. It seemed odd that 
there should be anything that this bright, free woman 
was not allowed to do, or that there should be any- 
body who would not allow it. 

Then followed some rainy days, and the first clear 
day Mrs. Easterfield told Olive that she would take 
her a drive in the afternoon. 

“I shall drive you myself with my own horses,” she 
said, “but you need not be afraid, for I can drive a 
great deal better than I can row. We must lose no 
time in seizing all the advantages of this Amazonian 
life, for to-morrow some of our guests will arrive— the 
Foxes and Mr. Claude Locker.” 

“Who are the Foxes?” asked Olive. 

“They are the pleasantest visitors that any one 
could have,” was the answer. “They always like 
everything. They never complain of being cold, nor 
43 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


talk about the weather being hot. They are inter- 
ested in all games, and they like all possible kinds of 
food that one can give them to eat. They are always 
ready to go to bed when they think they ought to, 
and sit up just as long as they are wanted. Of course 
they have their own ideas about things, but they don’t 
dispute. They take care of themselves all the morn- 
ing, and are ready for anything you want to do in the 
afternoon or evening. They have two children at 
home, but they never talk about them unless they are 
particularly asked to do so. They know a great many 
people, and you can tell by the way they speak of 
them that they won’t talk scandal about you. In 
fact, they are model guests, and they ought to open a 
school to teach the art of visiting.” 

“And what about Mr. Claude Locker! ” 

Mrs. Easterfield laughed. “Oh, he is different,” she 
said ; “he is so different from the Foxes that words 
would not describe it. But you won’t be long in 
becoming acquainted with him.” 

The road over which the two ladies drove that 
afternoon was a beautiful one, sometimes running 
close to the river under great sycamores, then making 
a turn into the woods and among the rocks. At last 
they came to a cross-road which led away from the 
river, and here Mrs. Easterfield stopped her horses. 

“Now, Olive,” said she, for she was now very famil- 
iar with her guest, “I will leave the return route to 
you. Shall we go back by the river road— and the 
scenery will be very different when going in the other 
direction— or shall we drive over to Glenford, and go 
home by the turnpike ? That is a little farther, but 
the road is a great deal better. ” 

44 


OLIVE PAYS TOLL 


“Oh, let us go that way ! ” cried Olive. “We will go 
through Uncle John’s toll-gate, and you must let me 
pay the toll. It will be such fun to pay toll to Uncle 
John or old Jane.” 

“Very well,” said Mrs. Easterfield ; “we will go that 
way.” 

When the horses had passed through Glenford and 
had turned their heads homeward, they clattered 
along at a fine rate over the smooth turnpike, and 
Olive was in as high spirits as they were. 

“Whoever comes out to take toll,” said she, “I 
intend to be treated as an ordinary traveller and noth- 
ing else. I have often taken toll, but I never paid 
it in my life. And they must take it— no gratis 
travelling for me. But I hope you won’t mind stop- 
ping long enough for me to say a few words after I 
have transacted the regular business.” 

“Oh, no,” said Mrs. Easterfield ; “you can chat as 
much as you like. We have plenty of time.” 

Olive held in her hand a quarter of a dollar ; she 
was determined they should make change for her, 
and that everything should be done properly. 

Dick Lancaster sat in the garden arbor, reading. 
He was becoming a little tired of this visit to his 
father’s old friend. He liked Captain Asher and ap- 
preciated his hospitality, but there was nothing very 
interesting for him to do in this place, and he had 
thought that it might be a very good thing if the 
several days for which he had been invited should 
terminate on the morrow. There were some very 
attractive plans ahead of him, and he felt that he had 
now done his full duty by his father and his father’s 
old friend. 


45 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


Captain Asher was engaged with some matters about 
his little farm, and Lancaster had asked as a favor 
that he might be allowed to tend the toll-gate during 
his absence. It would be something to do, and, more- 
over, something out of the way. 

When he perceived the approach of Mrs. Easter- 
field’s carriage, Lancaster walked down to the toll- 
house, and stopped for a minute to glance over the 
rates of toll which were pasted up inside the door as 
well as out. 

The carriage stopped, and when a young man 
stepped out from the tollhouse Olive gave a sudden 
start, and the words with which she had intended to 
greet her uncle or old Jane instantly melted away. 

“ Don’t push me out of the carriage,” said Mrs. 
Easterfield, good-naturedly, and she, too, looked at 
the young man. 

“For two horses and a vehicle,” said Dick Lan- 
caster, “ten cents, if you please.” 

Olive made no answer, but handed him the quarter, 
with which he retired to make change. Mrs. Easter- 
field opened her mouth to speak, but Olive put her 
finger on her lips and shook her head j the situation 
astonished her, but she did not wish to ask that 
stranger to explain it. 

Lancaster came out and dropped fifteen cents into 
Olive’s hand. He could not help regarding with inter- 
est the occupants of the carriage, and Mrs. Easterfield 
looked hard at him. Suddenly Olive turned in her 
seat ; she looked at the house, she looked at the gar- 
den, she looked at the little piazza by the side of the 
tollhouse. Yes, it was really the same place. For an 
instant she thought she might have been mistaken, 
46 


OLIVE PAYS TOLL 


but there was her window with the Virginia creeper 
under the sill where she had trained it herself. Then 
she made a motion to her companion, who immedi- 
ately drove on. 

“What does this mean?” exclaimed Mrs. Easter- 
field. “Who is that young man? Why didn’t you 
give me' a chance to ask after the captain, even if you 
did not care to do so ? ” 

“I never saw him before !” cried Olive. “I never 
heard of him. I don’t understand anything about it. 
The whole thing shocked me, and I wanted to get on.” 

“I don’t think it a very serious matter,” said Mrs. 
Easterfield. “Some passer-by might have relieved 
your uncle for a time.” 

“Not at all, not at all,” replied Olive. “IJncle 
John would never give the toll-gate into the charge 
of a passer-by, especially as old Jane was there. I 
know she was there, for the basement door was open, 
and she never goes away and leaves it so. That man is 
somebody who is staying there. I saw an open book on 
the arbor bench. Nobody reads in that arbor but me.” 

“And that young man, apparently,” said Mrs. Eas- 
terfield. “I agree with you that it is surprising.” 

For some minutes Olive did not speak. “I am 
afraid,” she said presently, “that my uncle is not 
acting quite frankly with me. I noticed how willing 
he was that I should go to your house.” 

“Perhaps he expected this person and wanted to 
get you out of the way,” laughed Mrs. Easterfield. 
“Well, my dear, I do not believe your uncle is such a 
schemer. He does not look like it. Take my word 
for it, it will all be as simple as a-b-c when it is ex- 
plained to you.” 


47 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


But Olive could not readily take this view of the 
case, and the drive home was not nearly so pleasant as 
it would have been if her uncle or old Jane had taken 
her quarter and given her fifteen cents in change. 

That night, soon after the family at Broadstone had 
retired to their rooms, Olive knocked at the door of 
Mrs. Easterfield’s chamber. 

“Do you know/’ she exclaimed, when she had been 
told to enter, “that a horrible idea has come into my 
head? Uncle John may have been taken sick, and 
that man looked just like a doctor. Old Jane was 
busy with uncle, and as the doctor had to wait, he 
took the toll. Oh, I wish we had asked ! It was 
cruel in me not to ! ” 

“Now that is all nonsense,” said Mrs. Easterfield. 
“If anything serious is the matter with your uncle 
he most surely would have let you know, and, besides, 
both the doctors in Glenford are elderly men. I do 
not believe there is the slightest reason for your 
anxiety. But, to make you feel perfectly satisfied, I 
will send a man to Glenford early in the morning. I 
want to send there anyway.” 

“But I would not like my uncle to think that I was 
trying to find out anything he did not care to tell 
me,” said Olive. 

“Oh, don’t trouble yourself about that,” answered 
Mrs. Easterfield. “I will instruct the man. He need 
not ask any questions at the toll-gate. But when he 
gets to Glenford he can find out everything about that 
young man without asking any questions. He is a 
very discreet person. And I am also a discreet per- 
son,” she added, “and you shall have no connection 
with my messenger’s errand.” 

48 


OLIVE PAYS TOLL 


After breakfast the next morning Mrs. Easterfield 
took Olive aside. “My man has returned,” she said ; 
“he tells me that Captain Asher took the toll, and 
was smoking his pipe in perfect health. He also saw 
the young man, and his natural curiosity prompted 
him to ask about him in the town. He heard that he 
is the son of one of the captain’s old shipmates who is 
making him a visit. How I hope this satisfies you.” 

“Satisfies me ! ” exclaimed Olive. “I should have 
been a great deal better satisfied if I had heard he 
was sick, provided it was nothing dangerous. I think 
my uncle is treating me shamefully. It is not that I 
care a snap about his visitor, one way or another, but 
it is his want of confidence in me that hurts me. 
Could he have supposed I should have wanted to stay 
with him if I had known a young man was coming ? ” 

“Well, my dear,” said Mrs. Easterfield, “I cannot 
send anybody to find out what he supposed. But I 
am as certain as I can be certain of anything that 
there is nothing at all in this bugbear you have con- 
jured up. Ho doubt the young man dropped in quite 
accidentally, and it was his bad luck that prevented 
him from dropping in before you left.” 

Olive shook her head. “My uncle knew all about 
it. His manner showed it. He has treated me very 
badly.” 


49 


CHAPTER VI 


MR. CLAUDE LOCKER 

The Foxes arrived at Broadstone at the exact hour 
of the morning at which they had been expected. 
They always did this ; even trains which were some- 
times delayed when other visitors came were always 
on time when they carried the Foxes. They were 
both perfectly well and happy, as they always were. 

As rapidly as it was possible for human beings to 
do so they absorbed the extraordinary advantages of 
the house and its surroundings, and they said the 
right things in such a common-sense fashion that their 
hostess was proud that she owned such a place, and 
happy that she had invited them to see it. 

In their hearts they liked everything about the 
place except Olive, and they wondered how they were 
going to get along with such a glum young person, 
but they did not talk about her to Mrs. Easterfield ; 
there was too much else. 

Mr. Claude Locker was expected on the train by 
which the Foxes had come, but he did not arrive ; 
and this made it necessary to send again for him iu 
the afternoon. 

Mrs. Easterfield tried very hard to cheer up Olive, 
and to make her entertain the Foxes in her usual 
50 


MR. CLAUDE LOCKER 


lively way, but this was of no use ; the young person 
was not in a good humor, and retired for an afternoon 
nap. But as this was an indulgence she very seldom 
allowed herself, it was not likely that she napped. 

Mr. Fox spoke to Mrs. Fox about her. “A queer 
girl,” he said; “what do you suppose is the matter 
with her ? ” 

“The symptoms are those of green apples,” replied 
Mrs. Fox, “and probably she will be better to-morrow.” 

The carriage came back without Mr. Locker. But 
just as the soup-plates were being removed from the 
dinner- table he arrived in a hired vehicle, and ap- 
peared at the dining-room door with his hat in one 
hand and a package in the other. He begged Mrs. 
Easterfield not to rise. 

“I will slip up to my room,” said he, “if you have 
one for me, and when I come down I will greet you 
and be introduced.” 

With this he turned and left the room, but was 
back in a moment. “It was a woman,” he said, “who 
was at the bottom of it. It is always a woman, you 
know, and I am sure you will excuse me now that you 
know this. And you must let me begin wherever 
you may be in the dinner.” 

“I have heard of Mr. Locker,” said Mr. Fox, “but 
I never met him before. He must be very odd.” 

“He admits that himself,” said Mrs. Easterfield, 
“but he asserts that he spends a great deal of his time 
getting even with people.” 

In a reasonable time Mr. Locker appeared and con- 
gratulated himself upon having struck the roast. 

“As a matter of fact,” he said, “we will now all begin 
dinner together. What has gone before was nothing 
51 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 

but overture. If I can help it I never get in until 
the beginning of the play.” 

He bowed parenthetically as Mrs. Easterfield in- 
troduced him to the company ; and, as she looked at 
him, Olive forgot for a moment her uncle and his 
visitor. 

“Don’t send for soup, I beg of you,” said Mr. Locker, 
as he took his seat. “I regard it as a rare privilege 
to begin with the inside cut of beef.” 

Mr. Locker was not allowed to do all the talking ; 
his hostess would not permit that ; but under the cir- 
cumstances he was allowed to explain his lateness. 

“You know I have been spending a week with the 
Bartons,” he said, “and last night I came over from 
their house to the station in a carriage. There is a 
connecting train, but I should have had to take it 
very early in the evening, so I saved time by hiring 
a carriage.” 

“Saved time ! ” exclaimed Mrs. Easterfield. 

“I saved all the time from dinner until the Bartons 
went to bed, which would have been lost if I had 
taken the train. Besides, I like to travel in carriages. 
One is never too late for a carriage ; it is always bound 
to wait for you.” 

In the recesses of his mind Mr. Fox now said to 
himself, “This is a fool.” And Mrs. Fox, in the re- 
cesses of her mind, remarked, “I am quite sure that 
Mr. Fox will look upon this young man as a fool.” 

“I spent what was left of the night at a tavern near 
the station,” continued Mr. Locker, “where I would 
have had to stay all night if I had not taken the car- 
riage. And I should have been in plenty of time for 
the morning train if I had not taken a walk before 
52 


MR. CLAUDE LOCKER 


breakfast. Apparently that is a part of the world 
where it takes a good deal longer to go back to a place 
than it does to get away from it.” 

“But where did the woman come in?” asked Mrs. 
Easterfield. 

“Oh, she came in with some tea and sandwiches in 
the middle of the afternoon,” said Mr. Locker. “I 
was waiting in the parlor of the tavern. She was 
fairly young, and as I ate she stood and talked. She 
talked about Horace Walpole.” At this even Olive 
smiled. “It was odd, wasn’t it?” continued Mr. 
Locker, glancing from one to the other. “But that 
is what she did. She had been reading about him in 
an old book. She asked me if I knew anything about 
him, and I told her a great deal. It was so very in- 
teresting to tell her, and she was so interested, that 
when the train arrived I was too much occupied to 
think that it might start again immediately ; but it 
did that very thing, and so I was left. However, the 
Walpole young woman told me there was a freight- 
train along in about an hour, and so we continued our 
conversation. When this train came I asked the 
engineer how many cigars he would take to let me 
ride in the cab. He said half a dozen, but as I only 
had five, I promised to send him the other by mail. 
However, as I smoked two of his five, I suppose I 
ought to send him three.” 

“This young man,” said Mr. Fox to himself, “is 
trying to appear more of a fool than he really is.” 

“I have no doubt,” said Mrs. Fox to herself, “that 
Mr. Fox is of the opinion that this young man is mak- 
ing an effort to appear foolish.” 

That evening was a dull one. Mrs. Easterfield did 
53 


THE CAPTAIN'S TOLL-GATE 


her best, Claude Locker did his best, and Mr. and 
Mrs. Fox did their best to make things lively, but 
their success was poor. Miss Raleigh, the secretary, 
sat ready to give an approving smile to any liveliness 
which might arise, and Mrs. Blynn,' with the dark 
eyes and soft white hair, sat sewing and waiting. 
Never before had it been necessary for her to wait for 
liveliness in Mrs. Easteriield’s house. A mild rain 
somewhat assisted the dulness, for everybody was 
obliged to stay indoors. 

Early the next morning Olive Asher went down- 
stairs, and stood in the open doorway looking out 
upon the landscape, glowing in the sunshine and 
brighter and more odorous from the recent rain. 
Some time during the night this young woman had 
made up her mind to give no further thought to her 
uncle who kept the toll-gate. There was no earthly 
reason why he, or anything he wanted to do, or did 
not want to do, or did, should trouble and annoy her. 
A few months before she had scarcely known him, not 
having seen him since she was a girl ; and, in fact, he 
was no more to her now than he was before she went 
to his house. If he chose to offer her any explanation 
of his strange conduct, that would be very well ; if he 
did not choose, that would also be very well. The 
whole affair was of no consequence ; she would drop 
it entirely from her mind. 

Olive’s bounding spirits now rose very high, and 
when Claude Locker came in with his shoes soaked 
from a tramp in the wet grass she greeted him in such 
a way that he could scarcely believe she was the 
grumpy girl of the day before. As they went in to 
breakfast Mrs. Fox remarked to her husband in a low 
54 


MR. CLAUDE LOCKER 


voice that Miss Asher seemed to have recovered en- 
tirely from her indisposition. 

In the course of the morning Mr. Locker found an 
opportunity to speak in private with Mrs. Easterfield. 

“I am in great trouble,” he said ; “I want to marry 
Miss Asher.” 

“You show unusual promptness,” said Mrs. Easter- 
field. 

“Not at all,” replied Locker. “This sort of thing 
is not unusual with me. My mind is a highly sensi- 
tive plate, and receives impressions almost instanta- 
neously. If it were a large mind these impressions 
might be placed side by side, and each one would per- 
haps become indelible. But it is small, and each 
impression claps itself down on the one before. This 
last one, however, is the strongest of them all, and 
obliterates everything that went before.” 

“It strikes me,” said Mrs. Easterfield, “that if you 
were to pay more attention to your poems and less 
to young ladies it would be better.” 

“Hardly,” said Mr. Locker ; “for it would be worse 
for the poems.” 

The general appearance of Mr. Locker gave no 
reason to suppose that he would be warranted in as- 
suming a favorable issue from any of the impressions 
to which his mind was so susceptible. He was small, 
rather awkwardly set up, his head was large, and the 
features of his face seemed to have no relation to each 
other. His nose was somewhat stubby, and had noth- 
ing to do with his mouth or eyes. One of his eye- 
brows was drawn down as if in days gone by he had 
been in the habit of wearing a single glass. The other 
brow was raised over a clear and wide-open light-blue 
55 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


eye. His mouth was large, and attended strictly to 
its own business. It transmitted his odd ideas to 
other people, but it never laughed at them. His chin 
was round and prominent, suggesting that it might 
have been borrowed from somebody else. His cheeks 
were a little heavy, and gave no assistance in the ex- 
pression of his ideas. 

His profession was that of a poet. He called him- 
self a practical poet, because he made a regular busi- 
ness of it, turning his poetic inspirations into salable 
verse with the facility and success, as he himself ex- 
pressed it, of a man who makes boxes out of wood. 

Moreover, he sold these poems as readily as any 
carpenter sold his boxes. Like himself, Claude 
Locker’s poems were always short, always in request, 
and sometimes not easy to understand. 

The poem he wrote that night was a word-picture 
of the rising moon entangled in a sheaf of corn upon 
a hilltop, with a long-eared rabbit sitting near by as 
if astonished at the conflagration. 

“ A very interesting girl, that Miss Asher,” said Mr. 
Fox to his wife that evening. “I do not know when 
I have laughed so much.” 

“I thought you were finding her interesting,” said 
Mrs. Fox. “To me it was like watching a game of 
roulette at Monte Carlo. It was intensely interesting, 
but I could not imagine it as having anything to do 
with me.” 

“Ho, my dear,” said Mr. Fox j “it could have noth- 
ing to do with you.” 

After Mrs. Easterfield retired she sat for a long 
time thinking of Olive. That young person and Mr. 
Locker had been boating that afternoon, and Olive 
56 


MR. CLAUDE LOCKER 


had had the oars. Mr. Locker had told with great 
effect how she had pulled to get out of the smooth 
water, and how she had dashed over the rapids and 
between the rocks in such a way as to make his heart 
stand still. 

“I should like to go rowing with her every day,” 
he had remarked confidentially. “Each time I started 
I should make a new will.” 

“Why a new one?” Mrs. Easterfield had asked. 

“Each time I should take something more from my 
relatives to give to her,” had been the answer. 

As she sat and thought, Mrs. Easterfield began to 
be a little frightened. She was a brave woman, but 
it is the truly brave who know when they should be 
frightened, and she felt her responsibility, not on 
account of the niece of the toll-gate-keeper, but on 
account of the daughter of Lieutenant Asher, whom 
she had once known so well. The thing which fright- 
ened her was the possibility that before anybody 
would be likely to think of such a thing Olive might 
marry Claude Locker. He was always ready to do 
anything he wanted to do at any time ; and, for all 
Mrs. Easterfield knew, the girl might be of the same 
sort. 

But Mrs. Easterfield rose to the occasion. She 
looked upon Olive as a wild young colt who had 
broken out of her paddock, but she remembered that 
she herself had a record for speed. “If there is to be 
any running I shall get ahead of her,” she said to her- 
self, “and I will turn her back. I think I can trust 
myself for that.” 

Olive slept the sound sleep of the young, but for all 
that she had a dream. She dreamed of a kind, good, 
57 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


thoughtful, and even affectionate, middle-aged man ; 
a man who looked as though he might have been her 
father, and whom she was beginning to look upon as 
a father, notwithstanding the fact that she had a real 
father dressed in a uniform and on a far-away ship. 
She dreamed ever so many things about this newer, 
although elder, father, and her dream made her very 
happy. 

But in the morning when she woke her dream had 
entirely passed from her mind, and she felt just as 
much like a colt as when she had gone to bed. 


58 


CHAPTER VII 


THE CAPTAIN AND HIS GUEST GO FISHING 
AND COME HOME HAPPY 

When Dick Lancaster told Captain Asker lie had 
taken toll from two ladies in a phaeton he was quite 
eloquent in his description of said ladies. He de- 
clared, with an impressiveness which the captain had 
not noticed in him before, that he did not know when 
he had seen such handsome ladies. The younger one, 
who paid the toll, was absolutely charming. She 
seemed a little bit startled, but he supposed that was 
because she saw a strange face at the toll-gate. Dick 
wanted very much to know who these ladies were. 
He had not supposed that he would find such stylish 
people and such a handsome turnout in this part of 
the country. 

“Oh, ho,” said Captain Asher, “do you suppose we 
are all farmers and toll-gate-keepers? If you do, you 
are very much mistaken, although I must admit that 
the stylish people, as you call them, are scattered 
about very thinly. I expect that carriage was from 
Broadstone, over on the mountain. Was the team 
dapple gray, pony built? ” 

“Yes,” said Lancaster. 

“Then it was Mrs. Easterfield driving some of her 
company. I have seen her with that team. And, by 
59 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


George,” he exclaimed, “I bet my head the other one 
was Olive ! Of course it was. And she paid toll ! 
Well, well, if that isn’t a good one ! Olive paying 
toll ! I wish I had been here to take it ! That truly 
would have been a lark ! ” 

Dick Lancaster did not echo this wish of his host. 
He was very glad indeed that the captain had not 
been at the toll-gate when the ladies passed through. 
Captain Asher was still laughing. 

“ Olive must have been amazed,” he said. “It was 
queer enough for her to go through my gate and pay 
toll, but to pay it to an Assistant Professor of Theo- 
retical Mathematics was a good deal queerer. I can’t 
imagine what she thought about it.” 

“She did not know I am that ! ” exclaimed Dick 
Lancaster. “There is nothing of the professor in my 
outward appearance— at least, I hope not.” 

“No, I don’t think there is,” replied the captain. 
“But she must have been amazed, all the same. I 
wish I had been here, or old Jane, anyway. But, of 
course, when a stranger showed himself she would not 
have said anything.” 

“But who is Olive?” asked Lancaster. 

“She’s my niece,” said the captain. “I don’t think 
I have mentioned her to you. She is on a visit to 
me, but just now she is staying at Broadstone. I 
suppose she will be there about a week longer.” 

“It’s odd he has not mentioned her to me,” thought 
Lancaster j and then, as the captain went to ask old 
Jane if she had seen Olive pass, the young man retired 
to the arbor with a book which he did not read. 

His desire to inform his host that it would be neces- 
sary to take leave of him on the morrow had very 
60 


THE CAPTAIN AND HIS GUEST 


much abated. It would be very pleasant, he thought, 
to be a visitor in a family of which that girl was a 
member. But if she were not to return for a week 
how could he expect to stay with the captain so long? 
There would be no possible excuse for such a thing. 
Then he thought it would be very pleasant to be in a 
country of which that young woman was one of the 
inhabitants. Anyway, he hoped the captain would 
invite him to make a longer stay. The great blue 
eyes with which the young lady had regarded him as 
she paid the toll would not fade out of his mind. 

“She must have wondered who it was that took the 
toll,” said old Jane. “And there wasn’t no need of 
it, anyway. I could have took it, as I always have 
took it when you was not here, and before either of 
them came.” 

“Either of them ” struck the captain’s ear strangely. 
Here was this old woman coupling these two young 
people in her mind ! 

The next morning Captain Asher sat on his little 
piazza smoking his pipe and thinking about Olive 
driving through the gate and paying toll to a stranger. 
But he now considered the incident from a different 
point of view. Of course, Olive had been surprised 
when she had seen the young man, but she might also 
have wondered how he happened to be there and she 
not know of it. If he were staying long enough to be 
intrusted with toll-taking, it might— in fact, the cap- 
tain thought it probably would— appear very strange 
to her that she should not know of it. So now he 
asked himself if it would not be a good thing if he 
were to write her a little note in which he should 
mention Mr. Lancaster and his visit. In fact, he 
61 


THE CAPTAINS TOLL-GATE 


thought the best thing he could do would be to write 
her a playful sort of a note, and tell her that she 
should feel honored by having her toll taken up by a 
college professor. But he did not immediately write 
the note. The more he thought about it the more he 
wished he had been at the toll-gate when Mrs. Eas- 
terfield’s phaeton passed by. 

Captain Asher did not write his note at all. He 
did not know what to say. He did not want to make 
too^ much of the incident, for 'it was really a trifling 
matter, only worthy of being mentioned in case he 
had something more important to write about. But 
he had nothing more important ; there was no reason 
why he should write to Olive during her short stay 
with Mrs. Easterfield. Besides, she would soon be 
back, and then he could talk to her ; that would be 
much better. Now two strong desires began to pos- 
sess him : one was for Olive to come home, and the 
other for Hick Lancaster to go away. There had 
been moments when he had had a shadowy notion of 
bringing the two together, but this idea had vanished. 
His mind was now occupied very much with thoughts 
of his beautiful niece and very little with the young 
man in the colored shirt and turned-up trousers who 
was staying with him. 

Hick Lancaster in his arbor was also thinking a 
great deal about Olive and very little about that 
stalwart sailor her uncle. If he had merely seen the 
young woman and had never heard anything about 
her, her face would have impressed him 5 but the 
knowledge that she was an inmate of the house in 
which he was staying could not fail to affect him very 
much. He was puzzling his mind about the girl who 
62 


THE CAPTAIN AND HIS GUEST 


had given him a quarter of a dollar, and to whom he 
had handed fifteen cents in change. He wondered 
how such a girl happened to be living at such a place ; 
he wondered if there were any possibility of his stay- 
ing there, or in the neighborhood, until she should 
come back ; he wondered if there were any way by 
which he could see her again. He might have won- 
dered a good many other things if Captain Asher had 
not approached the arbor. The captain, having been 
aroused from his mental contemplation of Olive by a 
man in a wagon, had glanced over at the arbor and 
had suddenly been struck with the conviction that 
that young man looked bored, and that, as his host, 
he was not doing the right thing by him. 

“Dick,” said the captain, “let’s go fishing. It’s not 
late yet, and I’ll put my mare to the buggy and we 
can drive to the river. We will take something to 
eat with us, and make a day of it.” 

Lancaster hesitated a moment. He had been think- 
ing that the time had come when he should say some- 
thing about his departure ; but this invitation settled 
the matter for that day, and in half an hour the two 
had started away, leaving the toll-gate in charge of 
old Jane, who was a veteran in the business, having 
lived at the toll-gate years before the captain. 

As they drove along the smooth turnpike Lancaster 
remembered with great interest that this road led to 
the gap in the mountains ; that the captain had told 
him Broadstone was not very far from the gap ; and 
that the river was not very far from Broadstone $ and 
his face glowed with interest in the expedition. 

But when, after a few miles, they turned into a 
plain country road which, as the captain informed 
63 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


him, led in a southeasterly direction to a point on 
the river where black bass were to be caught and 
where a boat could be hired, the corners of Dick Lan- 
caster’s mouth began to droop. Of necessity that road 
must reach the river miles to the south of Broadstone. 

It was a very good day for fishing, and the captain 
was pleased to see that the son of his old shipmate 
was a very fair angler. Toward the close of the after- 
noon, with the conviction that they had had a good 
time and that their little expedition had been a suc- 
cess, the two fishermen set out for home with a basket 
of bass, some of them quite a respectable size, stowed 
away under the seat of the buggy. When they 
reached the turnpike the old mare, knowing well in 
which direction her supper lay, turned briskly to the 
left, and set out upon a good trot. But this did not 
last very long. To her great surprise she was sud- 
denly pulled up short $ a carriage with two horses 
which had been approaching had also stopped. 

On the back seat of this carriage sat Mrs. Easter - 
field ; on one side of her was a little girl, and on the 
other side was another little girl, each with her feet 
stuck out straight in front of her. 

“Oh, Captain Asher,” exclaimed the lady, with a 
most enchanting smile, “I am so glad to meet you ! 
I was obliged to go to Glenford to take one of my 
little girls to the dentist, and I inquired for you each 
time I passed your gate.” 

The captain was very glad he had been so fortunate 
as to meet her, and as her eyes were now fixed upon 
his companion, he felt it incumbent upon him to 
introduce Mr. Richard Lancaster, the son of an old 
shipmate. 


64 


THE CAPTAIN AND HIS GUEST 


“But not a sailor, I imagine,” said Mrs. Easterfield. 

“Oh, no,” said the captain ; “Mr. Lancaster is As- 
sistant Professor of Theoretical Mathematics in Sutton 
College.” 

Lick could not imagine why the captain said all 
this, and he flushed a little. 

“Sutton College ? ” said Mrs. Easterfield. “Then of 
course you know Professor Brent.” 

“Oh, yes,” said Lancaster. “He is our president.” 

“I never met him,” said she, “but he was a classmate 
of my husband, and I have often heard him speak of 
him. And now for my errand, Captain Asher. Isn’t it 
about time you should be wanting to see your niece ? ” 

The captain’s heart sank. Lid she intend to send 
Olive home ? 

“I always want to see her,” he said, but without 
enthusiasm. 

“But don’t you think it would be nice,” said the 
lady, “if you were to come to lunch with us to-mor- 
row ? It was to ask you this that I inquired for you 
at the toll-gate.” 

Now this was another thing altogether, and the 
captain’s earnest acceptance would have been more 
coherent if it had not been for the impatience of his 
mare; 

“And I want you to bring your friend with you,” 
continued Mrs. Easterfield. “The invitation is for 
you both, of course.” 

Lick’s face said that this would be heavenly, but 
his mouth was more prudent. 

“It will be strictly informal,” continued Mrs. Eas- 
terfield. “Only myself and family, three guests, and 
Olive. We shall sit down at one. Good-by.” 

65 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


Mrs. Easterfield was entirely truthful when she said 
she was glad to meet the captain. Her anxiety about 
Olive and Claude Locker was somewhat on the in- 
crease. She was very well aware that the most 
dangerous thing for one young woman is one young 
man ; and in thinking over this truism she had been 
impressed with the conviction that it was not well 
for Mr. Claude Locker to be the one man at Broad- 
stone. Then, in thinking of possible young men, her 
mind naturally turned to the young man who was 
visiting Olive’s uncle. She did not know anything 
about him, but he was a young man, and if he proved 
to be worth something, he could be asked to come 
again. So it was really to Dick Lancaster, and not 
to Captain Asher, that the luncheon invitation had 
been given. 

The appointment with the Glenford dentist had 
made it necessary for her to leave home that after- 
noon. To be sure, she had sent the Foxes with Olive 
and Claude Locker upon the drive through the gap, 
and, under ordinary circumstances, and with ordinary 
people, there would have been no reason for her to 
trouble herself about them ; but neither the circum- 
stances nor the people were ordinary, and she now 
felt anxious to get home and find out what Claude 
Locker and Olive had done with Mrs. and Mr. Fox. 


66 


CHAPTER Yin 


CAPTAIN ASHER IS NOT IN A GOOD HUMOR 

The next morning was very bright for Captain Asher j 
he was going to see Olive, and he did not know before 
how much he wished to see her. 

When Dick Lancaster came from the house to take 
his seat in the buggy, the sight of the handsome suit 
of dark-blue serge, white shirt and collar, and patent- 
leather shoes, with the trousers hanging properly 
above them, placed Dick very much higher in the 
captain’s estimation than the young man with the 
colored shirt and rolled-up trousers could ever have 
reached. The captain, too, was well dressed for the 
occasion, and Mrs. Easterfield had no reason whatever 
to be ashamed of these two gentlemen when she in- 
troduced them to her other visitors. 

She liked Professor Lancaster. Having lately had 
a good deal of Claude Locker, she was prepared to 
like a quiet and thoroughly self-possessed young man. 

Olive was the latest of the little company to appear, 
and when she came down she caused a genuine though 
gentle sensation. She was most exquisitely dressed, 
not too much for a luncheon, and not enough for a 
dinner. This navy girl had not studied for nothing 
the art of dressing in different parts of the world. 

67 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 

Her uncle regarded her with open-eyed astonish- 
ment 

“Is this my brother’s daughter?” he asked himself. 
“The little girl who poured my coffee in the morning 
and went out to take toll ? ” 

Olive greeted her uncle with absolute propriety, 
and made the acquaintance of Mr. Lancaster with a 
formal courtesy to which no objection could be made. 
Apparently she forgot the existence of Mr. Locker, 
and for the greater part of the meal she conversed 
with Mr. Fox about certain foreign places with which 
they were both familiar. 

The luncheon was not a success ; there was a certain 
stiffness about it which even Mrs. Easterfield could 
not get rid of ; and when the gentlemen went out to 
smoke on the piazza, Olive disappeared, sending a 
message to Mrs. Easterfield that she had a bad head- 
ache and would like to be excused. Her excuse was a 
perfectly honest one, for she was apt to have a head- 
ache when she was angry $ and she was angry now. 

The reason for her indignation wa 5 the fact that 
her uncle’s visitor was an extremely presentable young 
man. Had it been otherwise Olive would have given 
the captain a good scolding, and would then have 
taken her revenge by making fun of him and his ship- 
mate’s son. But now she felt insulted that her uncle 
should conceal from her the fact that he had an en- 
tirely proper young gentleman for a visitor. Could 
he think she would want to stay at his house to be 
with that young man? Was she a girl from whom 
the existence of such a person was to be kept secret? 
She was very angry indeed, and her headache was 
genuine. 


68 


CAPTAIN ASHER IS ANGRY 


Captain Asher was also angry. He had intended 
to take Olive aside and tell her all about Dick Lan- 
caster, and how he had refrained from saying anything 
about him until he found out what sort of a young 
man he was. If then she saw fit to scold him, he 
was perfectly willing to submit and to shake hands 
all around. But now he would have no chance to 
speak to her ; she had not treated him properly, even 
if she had a headache. He admitted to himself that 
she was young and probably sensitive, but it was also 
true that he was sensitive, although old. Therefore 
he was angry. 

Mrs. Easterfield was disturbed ; she saw there was 
something wrong between Olive and her uncle, and 
she did not like it. She had invited Lancaster with 
an object, and she did not wish that other people’s 
grievances should interfere with said object. Olive 
was grumpy up -stairs and Claude Locker was in the 
doleful dumps under a tree, and if these two should 
grump and dump together, it might be very bad; 
consequently Mrs. Easterfield was more anxious than 
ever that there should be at least two young men at 
Broadstone. 

For this reason she asked Lancaster if he were fond 
of rowing ; ahid when he said he was, she invited him 
to join them in a boat party the next day to help her 
and Olive pull the big family boat. Mr. Fox did not 
like rowing and Mr. Locker did not know how. 

On the drive home Captain Asher and Lancaster 
did not talk much. Even the young man’s invitation 
to the rowing party did not excite much interest in 
the captain. These two men were both thinking of 
the same girl ; one pleasantly, and the other very 
69 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


unpleasantly. Dick was charmed with her, although 
he had had very little opportunity of becoming ac- 
quainted with her, but he hoped for better luck the 
next day. 

The captain did not know what to make of her. 
He felt sure that she was at fault, and that he was at 
fault, and he could not see how things could be made 
straight between them. Only one thing seemed plain 
to him, and this was that, with things as they were at 
present, she was not likely to come back to his house ; 
and this would not be necessary : he knew very well 
that there were other places she could visit, and that 
early in the fall her father would be home. 

Dick Lancaster walked to Broadstone the next 
morning, because Captain Asher was obliged to go to 
Glenford on business ; but the young man did not in 
the least mind a six-mile walk on a fine morning. 

All the way to Glenford the captain thought of 
Olive. Sometimes he wished she had never come to 
him. Even now, with Lancaster to talk to, he missed 
her grievously, and if she should not come back the 
case would be a great deal worse than if she had never 
come at all. But one thing was certain : if she re- 
turned as the young lady with whom he had lunched 
at Broadstone, he did not want her. He felt that he 
had been in the wrong, that she had been in the 
wrong ; and it seemed as if things in this world were 
gradually going wrong. He was not in a good 
humor. 

When he stopped his mare in front of a store, Maria 
Port stepped up to him and said : “How do you do, 
captain? What have you done with your young 
man ? ” 


70 


CAPTAIN ASHER IS ANGRY 


The captain got down from his buggy, hitched his 
mare to a post, and then shook hands with Miss Port. 

“Dick Lancaster has gone boating to-day with the 
Broadstone people,” he said. 

“What ! ” exclaimed Miss Port. “Gone there again 
already ? Why, it was only yesterday you took dinner 
with them.” 

“Lunch,” corrected the captain. 

“Well, you may call it what you please,” said Maria, 
“but I call it dinner. And them two’s together with- 
out you, that you tried so hard to keep apart ! ” 

“I did not try anything of the kind,” said the cap- 
tain, a little sharply ; “it just happened so.” 

“Happened so ! ” exclaimed Miss Port. “Well, I 
must say, Captain Asher, that you’ve a regular genius 
for makin’ things happen. The minute she goes, he 
comes. I wish I could make things happen that 
way.” 

The captain took no notice of this remark, and 
moved toward the door of the store. 

“Look here, captain,” continued Miss Port, “can’t 
you come and take dinner with us? You haven’t 
seen Pop for ever so long. It won’t be lunch, though, 
but an honest dinner.” 

The captain accepted the invitation, for old Mr. 
Port was one of his ancient friends, and then he en- 
tered the store. Miss Port was on the point of fol- 
lowing him ; she had something to say about Olive : 
but she stopped. 

“I’ll keep that till dinner-time,” she said to herself. 

Old Mr. Port had always been a very pleasant man 
to visit, and he had not changed now, although he 
was nearly eighty years old. He had been a success- 
71 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


ful merchant in the days when Captain Asher com- 
manded a ship, and there was good reason to believe 
that a large measure of his success was due to his 
constant desire to make himself agreeable to the 
people with whom he came in business contact. He 
was just as agreeable to his friends, of whom Captain 
Asher was one of the oldest. 

The people of Glenford often puzzled themselves as 
to what sort of a woman Maria’s mother could have 
been. Hone of them had ever seen her, for she had 
died years before old Mr. Port had come into that 
healthful region to reside ; but all agreed that her 
parents must have been a strangely assorted pair, 
unless, indeed, as some of the wiser suggested, she got 
her disposition from a grandparent. 

“That navy niece of yours must be a wild girl,” said 
Miss Port to the captain, as she carved the beef. 

“Wild ! ” exclaimed the captain. “I never saw 
anything wild about her.” 

“Perhaps not,” said his hostess, “but there’s others 
that have. It was only three days ago that she took 
that young man, that goggle-eyed one, out on the 
river in a boat, and did her best to upset him. 
Whether she stood up and made the boat rock while 
he clung to the side, or whether she bumped the boat 
against rocks and sand-bars, laughin’ the louder the 
more he was frightened, I wasn’t told. But she did 
skeer him awful. I know that.” 

“You seem to know a good deal about what is going 
on at Broadstone,” remarked the captain, somewhat 
sarcastically. 

“Indeed I do,” said she ; “a good deal more than 
they think. They’ve got such fine stomachs that they 
72 


CAPTAIN ASHER IS ANGRY 


can’t eat the beef they get at the gap, and Mr. Morris 
goes there three times a week, all the way from Glen- 
ford, to take them Chicago beef. The rest of the time 
they mostly eat chickens, I’m told.” 

“And so your butcher takes meat and brings back 
news,” said the captain. “The next time he passes 
the toll-gate I will tell him to leave the news with 
me, and I will see that it is properly distributed.” 
And with this he began to talk with Mr. Port. 

“Oh, you needn’t be so snappish about her,” insisted 
Maria. “If you are in that temper often, I don’t 
wonder the young woman wanted to go away.” 

The captain made no answer, but his glance at the 
speaker was not altogether a pleasant one. Old Mr. 
Port did not hear very well, but his eyesight was good, 
and he perceived from the captain’s expression that 
his daughter had been saying something sharp. This 
he never allowed at his table, and, turning to her, he 
said gently but firmly : 

“Maria, don’t you think you’d better go up-stairs 
and go to bed?” 

“He’s all the time thinkin’ I’m a child,” said Miss 
Maria, with a grin ; “but how awfully he’s mistook.” 
Then she added : “Has that teacher got money enough 
to support a wife when he marries her? I don’t sup- 
pose his salary amounts to much. I’m told it’s a little 
bit of a college he teaches at.” 

“I do not know anything about his salary,” said 
the captain, and again attempted to continue the con- 
versation with the father. 

But the daughter was not to be put down. “When 
is Olive Asher coming back to your house?” she 
asked. 


73 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


The captain turned upon her with a frown. “I did 
not say she was coming back at all,” he snapped. 

Now old Mr. Port thought it time for him to inter- 
fere. To him Maria had always been a young person 
to be mildly counselled, but to be firmly punished if 
she did not obey said counsels. It was evident that 
she was now annoying his old friend ; Maria had a 
great habit of annoying people, but she should not 
annoy Captain Asher. 

“Maria,” said Mr. Port, “leave the table instantly 
and go to bed.” 

Miss Port smiled. She had finished her dinner, and 
she folded her napkin and dusted some crumbs from 
her lap. She always humored her father when he 
was really in earnest ; he was very old and could not 
be expected to live much longer, and it was his daugh- 
ter’s earnest desire that she should be in good favor 
with him when he died. With a straight-cut smile at 
the captain, she rose and left the two old friends to 
their talk, and went out on the front piazza. There 
she saw Mr. Morris, the butcher, on his way home 
with an empty wagon. She stepped out to the edge 
of the sidewalk and stopped him. 

“Been to Broadstone?” she asked. 

“Yes,” said the butcher, with a sigh, and stopping 
his horse. Miss Port always wanted to know so much 
about Broadstone, and he was on his way to his 
dinner. 

“Well,” said Miss Port, “what monkey tricks are 
going on there now? Has anybody been drowned 
yet? Did you see that young man that’s stayin’ at 
the toll-gate ? ” 

“Yes,” said the butcher ; “I saw him as I was cross- 
74 


CAPTAIN ASHER IS ANGRY 


ing the bridge. He was in the big boat, helping to 
row. Pretty near the whole family was in the boat, 
I take it.” 

“That’s like them, just like them !” she exclaimed. 
“The next thing we’ll hear will be that they’ve all 
gone to the bottom together. I don’t suppose one of 
them can swim. Was the captain’s niece standin’ up 
or sittin’ down ? ” 

“They were all sitting down,” said the butcher, 
“and behaving like other people do in a boat.” And 
he prepared to go on. 

“Stop one minute,” said Miss Port. “Of course you 
are goin’ out there day after to-morrow ? ” 

“Ho,” said Mr. Morris ; “I’m going to-morrow. 
They’ve ordered some extra things.” Then he said, 
with a sort of conciliatory grin, “I’ll get some more 
news and have more time to tell it.” 

“Now don’t be in such a hurry,” said Miss Port, ad- 
vancing to the side of the wagon. “I want very much 
to go to Broadstone. I’ve got some business with 
that Mrs. Blynn that I ought to have attended to 
long ago. Now why can’t I ride out with you to- 
morrow? That’s a pretty broad seat you’ve got.” 

The butcher looked at her in dismay. “Oh, I 
couldn’t do that, Miss Port,” he said. “I always 
have a heavy load, and I can’t take passengers too.” 

“Now what’s the sense of your talkin’ like that ? ” 
said Miss Port. “You’ve got a great big horse, and 
plenty of room, and would you have me go hire a 
carriage and a driver to go out there when you can 
take me just as well as not? ” 

The butcher thought he would be very willing. 
He did not care for her society, and, moreover, he 
75 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


knew that both at Broadstone and in the town he 
would be ridiculed when it should be known that he 
had been taking Maria Port to drive. 

“Oh, I couldn’t do it,” he replied. “Of course, I’m 
willing to oblige—” 

“Oh, don’t worry yourself any more, Mr. Morris,” 
interrupted Miss Port. “I’m not askin’ you to take 
me now, and I won’t keep you from your dinner.” 

The next morning, as Mr. Morris, the butcher, was 
driving past the Port house at rather a rapid rate for 
a man with a heavy wagon, Miss Maria appeared at 
her door with her bonnet on. She ran out into the 
middle of the street, and so stationed herself that Mr. 
Morris was obliged to stop. Then, without speaking, 
she clambered up to the seat beside him. 

“Now, you see,” said she, settling herself on the 
leather cushion, “I’ve kept to my part of the bargain, 
and I don’t believe your horse will think this wagon 
is a bit heavier than it was before I got in. What’s 
the name of the new people that’s cornin’ to Broad- 
stone ? ” 


76 


CHAPTER IX 


MISS PORT TAKES A DRIVE WITH THE BUTCHER 

As the butcher and Miss Port drove out of town 
the latter did not talk quite so much as was her wont. 
She seemed to have something on her mind, and pres- 
ently she proposed to Mr. Morris that he should take 
the shunpike for a change. 

“That would be a mile and a half out of my way ! ” 
he exclaimed. “I can’t do it.” 

“I should think you’d get awfully tired of this same 
old road,” said she. 

“The easiest road is the one I like every time,” said 
Mr. Morris, who was also not inclined to talk. 

Miss Port did not care to pass the toll-gate that 
day $ she was afraid she might see the captain, and 
that in some way or other he would interfere with 
her trip ; but fortune favored her, as it nearly always 
did. Old Jane came to the gate, and as this stolid old 
woman never asked any questions, Miss Port contented 
herself with bidding her good morning and sitting 
silent during the process of making change. 

This self-restraint very much surprised old Jane, 
who straightway informed the captain that Miss Port 
was riding with the butcher to Broadstone, —she knew 
it was Broadstone, for he had no other customers that 
77 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


way, — and she guessed something must be the matter 
with her, for she kept her mouth shut and didn’t say 
nothing to nobody. 

As the wagon moved on Miss Port heaved a sigh. 
Fearful that she might see the captain somewhere, she 
had not even allowed herself to survey the premises 
in order to catch a glimpse of the shipmate’s son. 
This was a rare piece of self-denial in Maria, but she 
could do that sort of thing on occasion. 

When the butcher’s wagon neared the Broadstone 
house, Miss Port promptly got down, and Mr. Morris 
went to the kitchen regions by himself. She never 
allowed herself to enter a house by the back or side 
door, so now she went to the front, where, disap- 
pointed at not seeing any of the family, although she 
had made good use of her eyes, she was obliged to ask 
a servant to conduct her to Mrs. Blynn. Before she 
had had time to calculate the cost of the rug in the 
hall, or to determine whether the walls were kalso- 
mined or merely whitewashed, she found herself with 
that good lady. 

Miss Port’s business with Mrs. Blynn indicated a 
peculiar intelligence on the part of the visitor. It 
was based upon very little ; it had not much to do 
with anything, it amounted to almost nothing, and 
yet it appeared to contain certain elements of impor- 
tance which made Mrs. Blynn give it her serious con- 
sideration. 

After she had talked and peered about as long as 
she thought was necessary, Maria said she was afraid 
Mr. Morris would be waiting for her, and quickly 
took her leave, begging Mrs. Blynn not to trouble 
herself to accompany her to the door. When she left 
78 


MISS PORT TAKES A DRIVE 


the house, Maria did not seek the butcher’s wagon, but 
started out on a little tour of observation through the 
grounds. She was quite sure Mr. Morris was waiting 
for her, but for this she did not care a snap of her 
finger ; he would not dare to go and leave her. Pres- 
ently she perceived a young gentleman approaching 
her, and she recognized him instantly— it was the 
goggle-eyed man who had been described to her. 
Stepping quickly toward Mr. Locker, she asked him 
if he could tell her where she could find Miss Asher ; 
she had been told she was in the grounds. 

The young man goggled his eye a little more than 
usual. “Do you know her? ” said he. 

“Oh, yes,” replied Maria ; “I met her at the house 
of her uncle, Captain Asher.” 

“And, knowing her, you want to see her?” 

Astonished, Miss Port replied, “Of course.” 

“Very well, then,” said he. “Beyond that clump of 
bushes is a seat. She sits thereon. Accept my con- 
dolences.” 

“I will remember every word of that,” said Miss 
Port to herself, “but I haven’t time to think of it 
now. He’s just ravin’.” 

Olive had just had an interview with Mr. Locker 
which, in her eyes, had been entirely too protracted, 
and she had sent him away. He had just made her 
an offer of marriage, but she had refused even to con- 
sider it, assuring him that her mind was occupied 
with other things. She was busy thinking of those 
other things when she heard footsteps near her. 

“How do you do?” said Miss Port, extending her 
hand. 

Olive rose, but she put her hands behind her back. 

79 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


“Oh ! ” said Miss Port, dropping her hand, but al- 
lowing herself no verbal resentment. She had come 
there for information, and she did not wish to inter- 
fere with her own business. “I happened to be here,” 
she said, “and I thought I’d come and tell you how 
your uncle is. He took dinner with us yesterday, and 
I was sorry to see he didn’t have much appetite. But 
I suppose he’s failin’, as most people do when they 
get to his age. I thought you might have some mes- 
sage you’d like to send him.” 

“Thank you,” said Olive, with more than sufficient 
coldness, “but I have no message.” 

“Oh!” said Miss Port. “You’re in a fine place 
here,” she continued, looking about her, “very differ- 
ent from the toll-gate, and I expect the Easterfields 
has everything they want that money can more than 
pay for.” Having delivered this little shot at the 
reported extravagance of the lady of the manor, she 
remarked : “I don’t wonder you don’t want to go 
back to your uncle and run out to take the toll. It 
must have been a very great change to you if you’re 
used to this sort of thing.” 

“Who said I was not going back?” asked Olive, 
sharply. 

“Your uncle,” said Miss Port. “He told me at our 
house. Of course, he didn’t go into no particulars, 
but that isn’t to be expected ; he’s not the kind of man 
to do that.” 

Olive stood and looked at this smooth-faced, flat- 
mouthed spinster. She was pale, she trembled a lit- 
tle, but she spoke no word ,* she was a girl who did 
not go into particulars, especially with a person such 
as this woman standing before her. 

80 


MISS PORT TAKES A DRIVE 


Miss Port did not wish to continue the conversa- 
tion ; she generally knew when she had said enough. 
“Well,” she remarked, “as you haven’t no message 
to send to your uncle, I might as well go. But I did 
think that as I was right on my way you’d have at 
least a word for him. Good mornin’.” And with 
this she promptly walked away to join Mr. Morris, 
cataloguing in her mind, as she went, the foolish and 
lazy hammocks and garden chairs, the slow motions 
of a man who was sweeping leaves from the broad 
stone, and various other evidences of bad management 
and probable downfall which met her eyes in every 
direction. 

When Miss Port approached the toll-gate on her 
return she was very anxious to stop, and hoped that 
the captain would be at the gate. Fortune favored 
her again, and there he stood in the doorway of the 
little tollhouse. 

“Oh, captain,” she exclaimed, extending herself 
somewhat over the butcher’s knees in order to speak 
more effectively, “I’ve been to Broadstone, and I’ve 
seen your niece. She’s dressed up just like the other 
fine folks there, and she’s stiffer than any of them, I 
guess. I didn’t see Mrs. Easterfield, although I did 
want to get a chance to tell her what I thought about 
her plantin’ weeds in her garden and spreadin’ new 
kinds of seeds over this country, which goes to weeds 
fast enough in the natural way. As to your niece, I 
must say she didn’t show me no extra civility, and 
when I asked her if she had any message for you, she 
said she hadn’t a word to say.” 

The captain was not in the least surprised to hear 
that Olive had not treated Miss Port with extra civil- 
81 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


ity. He remembered his niece treating this prying 
gossip with positive rudeness, and he had been some- 
what amused by it, although he had always believed 
that young people should be respectful to their elders. 
He did not care to talk about Olive with Miss Port, 
but he had to say something, and so he asked if she 
seemed to be having a good time. 

“If settin’ behind bushes with young men, and 
goggle-eyed ones at that, is havin’ a good time,” re- 
plied Miss Port, “I’m sure she’s enjoyin’ herself.” 
And then, as she caught sight of Lancaster : “I sup- 
pose that’s the young man who’s visitin’ you. I hope 
he makes his scholars study harder than he does. He 
isn’t readin’ his book at all ; he’s just starin’ at nothin’. 
You might be polite enough to bring him out and 
introduce him, captain,” she added in a somewhat 
milder tone. 

The captain did not answer ; in fact, he had not 
heard all that Miss Port had said to him. If Olive 
had refused to send him a word, even the slightest 
message, she must be a girl of very stubborn resent- 
ments, and he was sorry to hear it. He himself was 
beginning to get over his resentment at her treatment 
of him at the Broadstone luncheon, and if she had been 
of his turn of mind everything might have been 
smoothed over in a very short time. 

“Well?” remarked Maria, in an inquiring tone. 

“Excuse me,” said the captain j “what were you 
saying ? ” 

Miss Maria settled herself in her seat. “If you and 
that young man wastin’ his time in the garden can’t 
keep your wits from wool-gatherin’,” said she, “ I hope 
old Jane has got sense enough to go on with the 
82 


MISS PORT TAKES A DRIVE 


housekeeping. I’ll call again when you’ve sent your 
young man away and got your young woman back.” 

Maria said little to the taciturn butcher on their 
way to Glenford, but she smiled a good deal to herself. 
For years it had been the desire of her life to go to 
live in the toll-gate; not with any idea of ousting 
Captain Asher— oh, no, by no means. Old Mr. Port 
could not live much longer, and his daughter would 
not care to reside in the Glenford house by herself. 
But the toll-gate would exactly suit her ; there was 
life, there was passing to and fro, there was money 
enough for good living and good clothes without any 
encroachment on whatever her father might leave 
her, and, above all, there was the captain, good for 
twenty years yet, in spite of his want of appetite, 
which she had mentioned to his niece. This would 
be a settlement which would suit her in every way : 
but so long as that niece lived there, there would be 
no hope of it ; even the shipmate’s son would be in 
the way. But she supposed he would soon be off. 


83 


CHAPTER X 


MRS. EASTERFIELD WRITES A LETTER 

When Miss Port had left her, Olive was so much 
disturbed by what that placid spinster had told her 
that she totally forgot Claude Locker’s proposal of 
marriage, as well as the other things she had been 
thinking about. These things had been not at all 
unpleasant ; she had been thinking of her uncle and 
her return to the toll-gate house. Her visit to Broad- 
stone was drawing to a close, and she was getting very 
tired of Mr. Locker and Mr. and Mrs. Fox. She found, 
now her anger had cooled down, that she was actually 
missing her uncle, and was thinking of him as of some 
one who belonged to her. Her own father had never 
seemed to belong to her. For periods of three years he 
was away on his ship ; and even when he had been on 
shore duty, she had sometimes been at school j and 
when she and her parents had been stationed some- 
where together, the lieutenant had been a good deal 
away from home on this or that naval business. 
When a girl she had taken these absences as a matter 
of course, but since she had been living with her uncle 
her ideas on the subject had changed. She wanted 
now to be at home with him ; and as Broadstone was 
so near the toll-gate she had no doubt that Mrs. Eas- 
84 


MRS. EASTERFIELD WRITES A LETTER 


terfield would sometimes want her to come to her 
when, perhaps, she would have different people stay- 
ing with her. 

This was a very pleasant mental picture, and the 
more Olive had looked at it the better she had liked 
it. As to the reconciliation with her uncle, it troubled 
her mind but little. So often had she been angry 
with people, and so often had everything been made 
all right again, that she felt used to the process. Her 
way was simple enough : when she was tired of her 
indignation she quietly dropped it, and then, taking 
it for granted that the other party had done the same, 
she recommenced her usual friendly intercourse, just 
as if there had never been a quarrel or misunder- 
standing. She had never found this method to fail,— 
although, of course, it might easily have failed with 
one who was not Olive,— and she had not the slightest 
doubt that if she wrote to her uncle that she was 
coming on a certain day she would be gladly received 
by him when she should arrive. 

But now? After what that woman had told her, 
what now ? If her uncle had said she was not coming 
back, there was an end to her mental pictures and her 
pleasant plans. And what a hard man he must be to 
say that ! 

Slowly walking over the grass, Olive went to look 
for Mrs. Easterfield, and found her in her garden on 
her knees by a flower-bed, digging with a little trowel. 

“Mrs. Easterfield,” said she, “I am thinking of get- 
ting married.” 

The elder lady sprang to her feet, dropping her 
trowel, which barely missed her toes. She looked 
frightened. “ What ? ” she exclaimed. “To whom ? ” 
85 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


“Not to anybody in particular,” replied Olive. “I 
am considering the subject in general. Let’s go sit 
on that bench and talk about it.” 

A little relieved, Mrs. Easterfield followed her. “I 
don’t know what you mean,” she said, when they were 
seated. “Women don’t think of marriage in a gen- 
eral way ; they consider it in a particular way.” 

“Oh, I am different,” said Olive ; “I am a navy girl, 
and more like a man. I have to look out for myself. 
I think it is time I was married, and therefore I am 
giving the subject attention. Don’t you think that is 
prudent?” 

“And you say you have no particular leanings ? ” 
the other inquired. 

“None whatever,” said Olive. “Mr. Locker pro- 
posed to me less than an hour ago, but I gave him no 
answer. He is too precipitate, and he is only one 
person, anyway.” 

“You don’t want to marry more than one person ! ” 
exclaimed Mrs. Easterfield. 

“No,” said Olive ; “but I want more than one to 
choose from.” 

Mrs. Easterfield did not understand the girl at all. 
But this was not to be expected so soon $ she must 
wait a little, and find out more. Notwithstanding 
her apparent indifference to Claude Locker, there 
was more danger in that direction than Mrs. Easter- 
field had supposed. A really persistent lover is often 
very dangerous, no matter how indifferent a young 
woman may be. 

“Have you been considering the professor?” she 
asked, with a smile. “I noticed that you were very 
gracious to him yesterday.” 

86 


MRS. EASTERFIELD WRITES A LETTER 


“No, I haven’t,” said Olive. “But I suppose I 
might as well. I did try to make him have a good 
time, but I was still a little provoked and felt that I 
would like him to go back to my uncle and tell him 
that he had enjoyed himself. But now I suppose I 
must consider all the eligibles.” 

“Why now?” asked Mrs. Easterfield, quickly; 
“why now more than any previous time?” 

Olive did not immediately answer, but presently 
she said : “I am not going back to my uncle. There 
was a woman here just now— I don’t know whether 
she was sent or not— who informed me that he did 
not expect me to return to his house. When my 
mother was living we were great companions for each 
other, but now, you see, I am left entirely alone. It 
will be a good while before father comes back, and 
then I don’t know whether he can settle down or not. 
Besides, I am not very well acquainted with him, but 
I suppose that would arrange itself in time. So, you 
see, all I can do is to visit about until I am married, 
and therefore the sooner I am married and settled 
the better.” 

“Perhaps this is a cold-blooded girl!” said Mrs. 
Easterfield to herself. “But perhaps it is not!” 
Then, speaking aloud, she said : “Olive Asher, were 
you ever in love ? ” 

The girl looked at her with reflective eyes. “Yes,” 
she said. “I was once, but that was the only time.” 

“Would you mind telling me about it? ” asked Mrs. 
Easterfield. ’ 

“Not at all,” replied the girl. “I was between 
thirteen and fourteen, and wore short dresses, and my 
hair was plaited. My father was on duty at the Phila- 
87 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


delphia Navy-yard, and we lived in that city. There 
was a young man who used to come to bring messages 
to father ; I think he was a clerk or a draughts- 
man. I do not remember his name, except that his 
first name was Rupert, and father always called him 
by that. He was a beautiful man-boy or boy-man, 
however you choose to put it. His eyes were heavenly 
blue, his skin was smooth and white, his cheeks were 
red, and he had the most charming mouth I ever saw. 
He was just the right height, well shaped, and wore 
the most becoming clothes. I fell madly in love with 
him the second time I saw him, and continued so for 
a long time. I used to think about him and dream 
about him, and write little poems about him which 
nobody ever saw. I tried to make a sketch of his 
face once, but I failed and tore it up.” 

“What did he do?” asked Mrs. Easterfield. 

“Nothing whatever,” said Olive. “I never spoke 
to him, or he to me. I don’t believe he ever noticed 
me. Whenever I could I went into the room where 
he was talking to father, but I was very quiet and 
kept in the background, and I do not think his eyes 
ever fell upon me. But that did not make any differ- 
ence at all. He was beautiful above all other men 
in the world, and I loved him. He was my first, my 
only love, and it almost brings tears in my eyes now 
to think of him.” 

“Then you really could love the right person if he 
were to come along,” said Mrs. Easterfield. 

“Why do you think I couldn’t? Of course I could. 
But the trouble is he doesn’t come, so I must try to 
arrange the matter with what material I have.” 

When Mrs. Easterfield left the garden she went 
88 


MRS. EASTERFIELD WRITES A LETTER 


rapidly to her room. There was a smile on her lips 
and a light in her eye. A novel idea had come to her 
which amused her, pleased her, and even excited her. 
She sat down at her writing-table and began a letter 
to her husband. After an opening paragraph she 
wrote thus : 

“Is not Mr. Hemphill, of the central office of the D. 
and J. , named Rupert ? It is my impression that he is. 
You know he has been to our house several times to din- 
ner when you invited railroad people, and I remember 
him very well. If his name is Rupert will you find out, 
without asking him directly, whether or not he was en- 
gaged about seven years ago at the navy-yard? I am 
almost positive I once had a conversation with him about 
the navy-yard and the moving of one of the great build- 
ings there. If you find that he had a position there, 
don’t ask him any more questions, and drop the subject 
as quickly as you can. But I then want you to send him 
here, on whatever pretext you please, —you can send me 
any sort of an important message or package,— and if I 
find it desirable I shall ask him to stay here a few days. 
These hard- worked secretaries ought to have more vaca- 
tions. In fact, I have a very interesting scheme in mind, 
of which I shall say nothing now for fear you may think 
it necessary to reason about it. By the time you come 
it will have been worked out, and I will tell you all about 
it. Now, don’t fail to send Mr. Hemphill as promptly 
as possible, if you find his name is Rupert, and that he 
has ever been engaged in the navy-yard.” 

This letter was then sent to the post-office at the 
gap with an immediate-delivery stamp on it. 

When Mrs. Easterfied went down-stairs, her face 
still glowing with the pleasure given by the writing 

89 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


of her letter, she met Claude Locker, whose face did 
not glow with pleasure. 

“What is the matter with you?” she asked. 

“I feel like a man who has been half decapitated,” 
said he. “I do not know whether the execution is to 
be arrested and my wound healed, or whether it is to 
go on and my head roll into the dust.” 

“A horrible idea ! ” said Mrs. Easterfield. “What 
do you really mean?” 

“I have proposed to Miss Asher, and I was treated 
with indifference, but have not been discarded. Don’t 
you see that I cannot live in this condition? I am 
looking for her.” 

“It will be a great deal better for you to leave her 
alone,” replied Mrs. Easterfield. “If she has any 
answer for you she will give it when she is ready. 
Perhaps she is trying to make up her mind, and you 
may spoil all by intruding yourself upon her.” 

“That will not do at all,” said Locker ; “not at all. 
The more Miss Asher sees of me in an unengaged 
condition the less she will like me. I am fully aware 
of this. I know that my general aspect must be very 
unpleasant, so if I expect any success whatever, the 
quicker I get this thing settled the better.” 

“Even if she refuses you?” said Mrs. Easterfield. 

“Yes,” he answered; “then down comes the axe 
again, away goes my head, and all is over ! Then there 
is another thing,” he said, without giving Mrs. Eas- 
terfield a chance to speak. “There is that mathemat- 
ical person. When will he be here again ? ” 

“I do not know,” replied Mrs. Easterfield ; “he has 
merely a general invitation.” 

“I don’t like him,” said Locker. “He has been 
90 


MRS. EASTERFIELD WRITES A LETTER 


here twice, and that is two times too many. I hate 
him.” 

“Why so?” 

“Because he is unobjectionable,” Locker answered, 
“and I am very much afraid Miss Asher likes unob- 
j ectionable people. No w I am obj ectionable, — I know 
it,— and the longer I remain unengaged the more ob- 
jectionable I shall become. I wish you would invite 
nobody but such people as the Foxes.” 

“Why?” 

“Because they are married,” replied Locker. “But 
I must not wait here. Can you tell me where I shall 
be likely to find her? ” 

“Yes,” said Mrs. Easterfield ; “she is with the Foxes, 
and they are married.” 


91 


CHAPTER XI 


MR. LOCKER IS RELEASED ON BAIL 

Nearly the whole of that morning Dick Lancaster 
sat in the arbor in the tollhouse garden, his book in 
his hand. Part of the time he was thinking about 
what he would like to do, and part of the time he 
was thinking about what he ought to do. He felt 
sure he had stayed with the captain as long as he had 
been expected to, but he did not want to go away. 
On the contrary, he greatly desired to remain within 
walking distance of Broadstone. He was in love with 
Olive. When he had seen her at luncheon, cold and 
reserved, he had been greatly impressed by her, and 
when he went out boating with her the next day he 
gave her his heart unreservedly. When people fell 
in love with Olive they always did it promptly. 

As he sat, with Olive standing near the footlights 
of his mental stage and the drop-curtain hanging 
between her and all the rest of the world, the captain 
strolled up to him. 

“Dick,” said he, “somehow or other my tobacco 
does not taste as it ought to. Give me a pipeful of 
yours.” 

When the captain had filled his pipe from Dick’s 
bag he lighted it and gave a few puffs. “It isn’t a 
92 


MR. LOCKER IS RELEASED ON BAIL 


bit better than mine,” said be, “but I will keep on 
and smoke it. Dick, let’s go and take a walk over 
the hills. I feel rather stupid to-day. And, by the 
way, I hope you will be able to stay with me for the 
rest of your vacation. Have you made plans to go 
anywhere else ? ” 

“No plans of the slightest importance,” answered 
Lancaster, with j oy ous vivacity. “I shall be delighted 
to stay.” 

This prompt acceptance somewhat surprised the 
captain. He had spoken without premeditation, and 
without thinking of anything at all except that he 
did not want everybody to go away and leave him. 

He had begun to know something of the pleasures 
of family life, of having some one to sit at the table 
with him to whom he could talk, on whom he could 
look-in fact, although he did not exactly appreciate 
such a state of things, some one he could love. He 
was getting really fond of Dick Lancaster. 

As for Olive, he did not know what to think of her ; 
sometimes he was sure she was not coming back, and 
at other times he thought it likely he might get a 
letter that very day appointing the time for her re- 
turn. He stood puffing his pipe and thinking about 
this after Dick had spoken. 

“But it does not matter,” he said to himself, “which 
way it happens. If she doesn’t come I want him here, 
and if she does come, he is good enough for anybody, 
and perhaps she may be pleased.” And then he in- 
dulged in a little fragment of the dream which had 
come to him before : he saw two young people in a 
charming home— not at the toll-gate— and himself 
living with them ; plenty of money for all moderate 
93 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


needs, and all happy and satisfied. Then with a sigh 
he knocked the tobacco from his pipe and said to 
himself : “If I hear she is coming I will let her know 
he is still here, and then she must judge for herself.” 

As they walked together over the hills, Dick Lan- 
caster was very anxious to know something about 
Olive’s return, but he did not like to ask. The cap- 
tain had been very reticent on the subject of his niece, 
and Dick was a gentleman. But to his surprise, and 
very much to his delight, the captain soon began to 
talk about Olive. He told Dick how his brother had 
entered the navy when the elder was first mate on a 
merchant vessel ; how Alfred had risen in the service, 
had married, and how his wife and daughter had lived 
in various parts of the world. Then he spoke of a 
good many things he had heard about Olive, and other 
things he had found out since she had lived with him ; 
and as he went on his heart warmed, and Dick Lan- 
caster listened with as warm a heart as that from 
which the captain spoke. 

And thus they walked over the hills, this young 
man and this elderly man, each in love with the 
same girl. 

During all the walk Dick never asked when Miss 
Asher was coming back to the tollhouse, nor did Cap- 
tain Asher make any remarks upon the subject. It 
was not really of vital importance to Dick, as Broad- 
stone was so near, and it was of such vital importance 
to the captain that it was impossible for him to speak 
of it. 

The next day the bright-hearted Richard trod 
buoyantly upon the earth ; he did not care to read, 
he did not want to smoke, and he was not much in- 
94 


MR. LOCKER IS RELEASED ON BAIL 


dined to conversation : lie was simply buoyant and 
undecided. The captain looked at him and smiled. 

“Why don’t you walk over to Broadstone ? ” he said. 
“It will do you good. I want you to stay with me, 
but I don’t expect you to be stuck down to this toll- 
house all day. I am going about the farm to-day, 
but I shall expect you to supper.” 

When he was ready to start, Dick Lancaster felt a 
little perplexed. His ideas of friendly civility im- 
pelled him to ask the captain if there was anything 
he could do for him— if there was any message or 
missive he could take to his niece, or anything he 
could bring from her ; but he was prudent and re- 
frained : if the captain wished service of this sort he 
was a man to ask for it. 

The first person Dick met at Broadstone was Mrs. 
Easterfield, cutting roses. 

“I am very glad to see you, Professor Lancaster,” 
said she, as she put down her roses and her scissors. 
“Would you mind, before you enter into the general 
Broadstone society, sitting down on this bench and 
talking a little to me f ” 

Dick could not help smiling. What man in the 
world, even if he were in love with somebody else, 
could object to sitting down by such a woman and 
talking to her? 

“What I am going to say,” said Mrs. Easterfield, 
“is impertinent, unwarranted, and of an officious 
character. Y ou and I know each other very slightly ; 
neither of us has long been acquainted with Captain 
Asher, you have met his niece but twice, and I have 
never really known her until what you might call the 
other day. But in spite of all this I propose that you 
95 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


and I shall meddle a little in their affairs. I have 
taken the greatest fancy to Miss Asher, and, if you 
can do it without any breach of confidence, I would 
like you to tell me if you know of any misunder- 
standing between her and her uncle.” 

“I know of nothing of the kind,” said Dick, with 
great interest, “but I admit I thought there might be 
something wrong somewhere. He knew I was coming 
here to-day,— in fact, he suggested it,— but he sent 
Miss Asher no sort of message.” 

“Can it be possible he is cherishing any hard feel- 
ings against her t ” she remarked. “I should not have 
supposed he was that sort of man.” 

“He is not that sort of man,” said Dick, warmly. 
“He was talking to me about her yesterday, and from 
what he said I am sure he thinks she is the finest girl 
in the world.” 

“I am glad to hear that,” said she, “but it makes 
the situation more puzzling. Can it be possible that 
she is treating him badly f ” 

“Oh, I could not believe that ! ” exclaimed Dick, 
fervently. “I cannot imagine such a thing.” 

Mrs. Easterfield smiled. He had really known the 
girl but for one day, for the first meeting did not 
count j and here he was defending the absolute beauty 
of her character. But the assumption of the genus 
young man often overtops the pyramids. She now 
determined to take him a little more into her confi- 
dence. 

“Miss Asher has intimated to me that she does not 
expect to go back to her uncle’s house, and this morn- 
ing she made a reference to the end of her visit here ; 
but I thought you might be able to tell me something 
96 


MR. LOCKER IS RELEASED ON BAIL 


about her uncle. If he really does not expect her 
back I want her to stay here.” 

“Alas!” said Dick, “I cannot tell you anything. 
But of one thing I feel sure, and that is that he would 
like her to come back.” 

“Well,” said Mrs. Easterfield, “I am not going to 
let her go away at present, and if Captain Asher should 
say anything to you on the subject, you are at liberty 
to tell him that. From what you said the other day, 
I suppose you will soon be leaving this quiet valley 
for the haunts of men.” 

“Oh, no !” exclaimed Dick. “He wants me to stay 
with him as long as I can, and I shall certainly do it.” 

“Now,” said Mrs. Easterfield, rising, “I must go 
and finish cutting my roses. I think you will find 
everybody on the tennis grounds.” 

Mrs. Easterfield had cut in all twenty-three roses 
when Claude Locker came to her from the house. 
His face was beaming, and he skipped over the short 
grass. 

“Congratulate me,” he said, as he stepped before 
her. 

Mrs. Easterfield dropped her roses and her scissors 
and turned pale. “What do you mean? ” she gasped. 

“Oh, don’t be frightened,” he said. “I have not 
been acquitted, but the execution has been stopped 
for the present, and I am out on bail. I really feel 
as though the wound in my neck had healed.” 

“What stuff ! ” said Mrs. Easterfield, her color re- 
turning. “Try to speak sensibly.” 

“Oh, I can do that,” said Mr. Locker ; “upon occa- 
sion I can do that very well. I proposed again to 
Miss Asher not twenty minutes ago. She gave me no 
97 


MR. LOCKER IS RELEASED ON BAIL 


answer, but she made an arrangement with me which 
I think is going to be very satisfactory. She said she 
could not have me proposing to her every time I saw 
her,— it would attract attention, and in the end might 
prove annoying, — but she said she would be willing 
to have me propose to her every day just before 
luncheon, provided I did not insist upon an answer 
and would promise to give no indication whatever at 
any other time that I entertained any unusual regard 
for her. I agreed to this, and now we understand 
each other. I feel very confident and happy. The 
other person has no regular time for offering himself, 
and if any effort of mine can avail he shall not find an 
irregular opportunity.” 

Mrs. Easterfield laughed. “Come pick up my 
roses,” she said. “I must go in.” 

“It is like making love,” said Locker, as he picked 
up the flowers, “charming, but prickly.” At this mo- 
ment he started. “Who is that? ” he exclaimed. 

Mrs. Easterfield turned. “Oh, that is Monsieur 
Emile Du Brant. He is one of the secretaries of the 
Austrian legation. He is to spend a week with us. 
Suppose you take my flowers into the house and I 
will go to meet him.” 

Claude Locker, his arms folded around a mass of 
thorny roses, and a pair of scissors dangling from one 
finger, stood and gazed with savage intensity at the 
dapper little man— black eyes, waxed mustache, 
dressed in the height of fashion— who, with one hand 
outstretched, while the other held his hat, advanced 
with smiles and bows to meet the lady of the house. 

Locker had seen him before : he had met him in 
Washington $ and he had received forty dollars for a 
98 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


poem of which this Austrian young person was the 
subject. 

He allowed the lady and her guest to enter the 
house before him, and then, like a male Flora, he 
followed, grinding his teeth and indulging in im- 
precations. 

“He will have to put on some other kind of clothes, : ” 
he muttered, “and perhaps he may shave and curl his 
hair. That will give me a chance to see her before 
lunch. I do not know that she expected me to begin 
to-day, but I am going to do it. I have a clear field 
so far, and nobody knows what may happen to- 
morrow.’ ? 

As Locker stood in the hallway waiting for some 
one to come and take his flowers, or to tell him where 
to put them, he glanced out of the back door. There, 
to his horror, he saw that Mrs. Easterfield had con- 
ducted her guest through the house, and that they 
were now approaching the tennis ground, where Pro- 
fessor Lancaster and Miss Asher were standing with 
their rackets in their hands, while Mr. and Mrs. Fox 
were playing chess under the shade of a tree. 

“Field open!” he exclaimed, dropping the roses 
and the scissors. “Field clear ! What a double- 
dyed ass am I ! ” And with this he rushed out to the 
tennis ground ; Mrs. Easterfield did not play. 

Before Mrs. Easterfield returned to the house she 
stood for a moment and looked at the tennis players. 

“Olive and three young men,” she said to herself $ 
“that will do very well.” 

A little before luncheon Claude Locker became 
very uneasy, and even agitated. He hovered around 
Olive, but found no opportunity to speak to her, for 
99 


MR. LOCKER IS RELEASED ON BAIL 


she was always talking to somebody else, mostly to 
the newcomer. But she was a little late in entering 
the dining-room, and Locker stepped up to her in the 
doorway. 

“Is this your handkerchief?” he asked. 

“No,” said she, stopping ; “isn’t it yours? ” 

“Yes,” he replied j “but I had to have some way of 
attracting your attention. I love you so much that 
I can scarcely see the table and the people.” 

“Thank you,” she said ; “and that is all for the next 
twenty-four hours.” 


100 


CHAPTER XII 

MR. RUPERT HEMPHILL 

That afternoon it rained, so that the Broadstone 
people were obliged to stay indoors. Dick Lancaster 
found Mr. Fox a very agreeable and well-informed 
man, and Mrs. Fox was also an excellent conversa- 
tionalist. Mrs. Easterfield, who, after the confidences 
of the morning, could not help looking at him as 
something more than an acquaintance, talked to him 
a good deal, and tried to make the time pass pleas- 
antly, at which business she was an adept. All this 
was very pleasant to Dick, but it did not compensate 
him for the almost entire loss of the society of Olive, 
who seemed to devote herself to the entertainment of 
the Austrian secretary. Mrs. Easterfield was very 
sorry that the young foreigner had come at this time, 
but he had been invited the winter before, the time 
had been appointed, and the visit had to be endured. 

When the rain had ceased and Dick was about to 
take his leave, his hostess declared she would not let 
him walk back through the mud. 

“You shall have a horse,” she said ; “and that will 
insure an early visit from you, for of course you will 
not trust the animal to other hands than your own. 

101 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


I would ask you to stay, but that would not be treat- 
ing the captain kindly.” 

As Dick was mounting, Mr. Du Brant was standing 
at the front door, a smile on his swarthy countenance. 
This smile said, as plainly as words could have done 
so, that it was very amusing to this foreign young man 
to see a person with rolled-up trousers and a straw 
hat mount upon a horse. Claude Locker, whose soul 
had been chafing all the afternoon under his banish- 
ment from the society of the angel of his life, was also 
at the front door, and saw the contemptuous smile. 
Instantly a new and powerful emotion swept over his 
being in the shape of a strong feeling of fellowship 
for Lancaster. It made his soul boil with indignation 
to see the sneer which the Austrian directed toward 
the young man, a thoroughly fine young man, who, 
by said foreigner’s monkeyful impudence and an- 
other’s mistaken favor, had been made a brother-in- 
misfortune of himself, Claude Locker. 

“I will make common cause with him against the 
enemy,” thought Locker. “If I should fail to get her 
I will help him to.” And although Dick’s brown 
socks were plainly visible as he cantered away, Mr. 
Locker looked after him as a gallant and honored 
brother-in-arms. 

That evening Claude Locker fought for himself 
and his comrade. He persisted in talking French 
with Mr. Du Brant ; and his remarkable management 
of that language, in which ignorance and a subtle 
facility in intentional misapprehension were so 
adroitly blended that it was impossible to tell one 
from the other, amused Olive, and so provoked the 
Austrian that at last he turned away and began to 
102 


MR. RUPERT HEMPHILL 


talk American politics with Mr. Fox, which so elated 
the poet that the ladies of the party passed a merry 
evening. 

“ Would you like me to take him out rowing to- 
morrow ? ” asked Claude apart to his hostess. 

“With you at the oars ?’ 7 she asked. 

“Of course,” said Locker. 

“I am amazed,” said she, “that you should suspect 
me of such cold-blooded cruelty.” 

“You know you don’t want him here,” said Claude. 
“His salary cannot be large, and he must spend the 
greater part of it on clothes— and oil.” 

“Is it possible,” she asked, “that you look upon 
that young man as a rival ? ” 

“By no means,” he replied. “Such persons never 
marry. They only prevent other people from marry- 
ing anybody. Therefore it is that I remember what 
sort of a boatman I am.” 

“My dear,” said Mr. Fox, when he and his wife had 
retired to their room, “after hearing what that Aus- 
trian has to say of the American people, \I almost 
revere Mr. Locker.” 

“I heard some of his remarks,” she said, “and I 
imagined they would have an effect of that kind upon 
you.” 

When the Broadstone surrey came from the train 
the next morning, it brought a gentleman. 

“What ! ” exclaimed Mrs. Fox, when from the other 
side of the lawn she saw him alight. “Another young 
man with a valise ! It seems to me that this is an 
overdose.” 

“Overdoses,” remarked Mr. Fox, “are often less 
dangerous than just enough poison.” 

103 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


Mrs. Easterfield received this visitor at the door. 
She had been waiting for him, and did not wish him 
to meet anybody when she was not present. After 
offering his respectful salutations, Mr. Hemphill, Mr. 
Easterfield’s secretary in the central office of the D. 
and J., delivered without delay a package of which 
he was the bearer, and apologized for his valise, stating 
that Mr. Easterfield had told him he must spend the 
night at Broadstone. 

“Most assuredly you would do that,” said she, and 
to herself she added, “If I want you longer I will let 
you know.” 

Mr. Bupert Hemphill was a very handsome man ; 
his nose was fine, his eyes were dark and expressive, 
he wore silky side- whiskers, which, however, did not 
entirely conceal the bloom upon his cheeks, his teeth 
were very good, he was well shaped, and his clothes 
fitted him admirably. 

As has been said before, Mrs. Easterfield was exceed- 
ingly interested ; she was even a little agitated, which 
was not common with her. She had Mr. Hemphill 
conducted to his room, and then she waited for him 
to come down j this also was not common with her. 

“Mr. Locker,” she called from the open door, “do 
you know where Miss Asher is ? ” 

The poet stopped in his stride across the lawn and 
approached the lady. “Oh, she is with the Du 
Brant,” said he. “I have been trying to get in some 
of my French, but neither of them will rise to the fly. 
However, I am content ; it is now three hours before 
luncheon, and if she has him to herself for that length 
of time I think she will be thoroughly disgusted. 
Then it will be my time, as per agreement.” 

104 


MR. RUPERT HEMPHILL 


Mrs. Easterfield was a little disappointed. She 
wanted Olive by herself, but she did not want to make 
a point of sending for her. But fortune favored her. 

“There she is,” exclaimed Locker; “she is just 
going into the library. Let me go tell her you want 
her.” 

“Not at all,” said Mrs. Easterfield. “Don’t put 
yourself into danger of breaking your word by seeing 
her alone before luncheon. I’ll go to her.” 

Mr. Locker continued his melancholy stroll, and 
Mrs. Easterfield entered the library. Olive must not 
be allowed to go away until the moment arrived which 
had been awaited with so much interest. 

“I am looking for a copy of 1 Tartarin sur les Alps.’ 
I am sure I saw it among these French books,” said 
Olive, on her knees before a low bookcase. “Would 
you believe it? Mr. Du Brant has never read it ; and 
he seems to think so much of education.” 

Mrs. Easterfield knew exactly where the book was, 
but she preferred to allow Olive to occupy herself in 
looking for it, while she kept her eyes on the hall. 

“Wait a moment, Olive,” said she ; “a visitor has 
just arrived, and I want to make him acquainted with 
you.” 

Olive rose with a book in her hand, and Mrs. Eas- 
terfield presented Mr. Hemphill to Miss Asher. As 
she did so, Mrs. Easterfield kept her eyes steadily 
fixed upon the young lady’s face. With a pleasant 
smile Olive returned Mr. Hemphill’s bow. She was 
generally glad to make new acquaintances. 

“Mr. Hemphill is one of my husband’s business asso- 
ciates,” said Mrs. Easterfield, still with her eyes on 
Olive. “He has just come from him.” 

105 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


“Did lie send us this fine day by you? ” said Olive. 
“If so, we are greatly obliged to him.” 

The young man answered that, although he had not 
brought the day, he was delighted that he had come 
in company with it. 

“What atrocious commonplaces ! ” thought Mrs. 
Easterfield. “The girl does not know him from 
Adam ! ” 

Here was a disappointment j the thrill, the pallor, 
the involuntary start, were totally absent, and the 
first act of the little play was a failure. But Mrs. 
Easterfield hoped for better things when the curtain 
rose again. She conducted Mr. Hemphill to the Foxes 
and let Olive go away with her book j and as soon as 
she had the opportunity she read the letter from her 
husband. 

“With this I send you Mr. Hemphill,” he wrote. 
“I don’t know what you want to do with him, but 
you must take good care of him. He is a most valu- 
able secretary, and an estimable young man. As soon 
as you have done with him please send him back.” 

“I am glad he is estimable,” said Mrs. Easterfield to 
herself. “That will make the matter more satisfac- 
tory to Tom when I explain it to him.” 

When Dick Lancaster, properly booted and wear- 
ing a felt hat, returned the borrowed horse, he was 
met by Mr. Locker, who had been wandering about 
the front of the house, and when he had dismounted 
Dick was somewhat surprised by the hearty hand- 
shake he received. 

“I am sorry to have to tell you,” said the poet, 
“that there is another one.” 

“Another what?” asked Dick. 


106 


MR. RUPERT HEMPHILL 


“ Another unnecessary victim,” replied Locker. 
And with this he returned to the front of the house. 

At last Olive came down the stairs, and she was 
alone. Locker stepped quickly up to her. 

“If I should marry,” he said, “would I be expected 
to entertain that Austrian?” 

She stopped and gave the question her serious con- 
sideration. “I should think,” she said, “that that 
would depend a good deal upon whom you should 
marry.” 

“How can you talk in that way?” he exclaimed. 
“As if there were anything to depend upon ! ” 

“Nothing to depend upon?” said Olive, slightly 
raising her eyebrows. “That is bad.” And she 
went into the dining-room. 

The afternoon was an exceptionally fine one, but 
the party at Broadstone did not take advantage of 
it ; there seemed to be a spirit of unrest pervading 
the premises, and when the carriage started on a 
drive along the river only Mr. and Mrs. Fox were in 
it. Mrs. Easterfield would not leave Olive and Mr. 
Hemphill, and she did not encourage them to go. 
Consequently there were three young men who did 
not wish to go. 

“It seems to me,” said Mr. Fox, as they rolled away, 
“that a young woman such as Miss Asher has it 
in her power to interfere very much with the social 
feeling which should pervade a household like this. 
If she were to satisfy herself with attracting one per- 
son, all the rest of us might be content to make 
ourselves happy in such fashions as might present 
themselves.” 

“The rest of us ! ” exclaimed Mrs. Fox. 

107 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


“Yes,” replied her husband. “I mean you, and 
Mrs. Easterfield, and myself, and the rest. That 
young woman’s indeterminate methods of fascination 
interfere with all of us.” 

“I don’t exactly see how they interfere with me,” 
said Mrs. Fox, rather stiffly. 

“If the carriage had been filled, as was expected,” 
said her husband, “I might have had the pleasure of 
driving you in a buggy.” 

She turned to him with a smile. “Immediately 
after I spoke,” she said, “I imagined you might be 
thinking of something of that kind.” 

Mrs. Easterfield was not a woman to wait for things 
to happen in their own good time. If possible, she 
liked to hurry them up. In this Olive and Hemphill 
affair there was really nothing to wait for $ if she left 
them to themselves there would be no happenings. 
As soon as was possible, she took Olive into her own 
little room, where she kept her writing-table, and 
into whose sacred precincts her secretary was not 
allowed to penetrate. 

“How, then,” said she, “what do you think of Mr. 
Hemphill ? ” 

“I don’t think of him at all,” said Olive, a little 
surprised. “Is there anything about him to think of? ” 

“He sat by you at luncheon,” said Mrs. Easterfield. 

“I know that,” said Olive, “and he was better than 
an empty chair. I hate sitting by empty chairs.” 

“Olive,” exclaimed Mrs. Easterfield, with vivacity, 
“you ought to remember that young man ! ” 

“Remember him?” the girl ejaculated. 

“Certainly,” said Mrs. Easterfield. “After what 
you told me about him, I expected you would recog- 
.108 


MR. RUPERT HEMPHILL 


nize him the moment you saw him. But you did not 
know him,— you did not do anything I expected you 
to do,— and I was very much disappointed.” 

“What are you talking about?” asked Olive. 

“I am talking about Mr. Hemphill, Mr. Eupert 
Hemphill, who, about seven years ago, was engaged in 
the Philadelphia Havy-yard, and who came to your 
house on business with your father. From what you 
told me of him I conjectured that he might now be 
my husband’s Philadelphia secretary, for his name is 
Eupert, and I had reason to believe that he was once 
engaged in the navy-yard. When I found out I 
was entirely correct in my supposition I had him sent 
here, and I looked forward with the most joyous an- 
ticipations to being present when you first saw him. 
But it was all a fiasco ! I suppose some people might 
think I was unwarrantably meddling in the affairs of 
others, but as it was in my power to create a most 
charming romance, I could not let the opportunity 
pass.” 

Olive did not hear a word of Mrs. Easterfield’s latest 
remarks ; her round, full eyes were fixed upon the 
wall in front of her, but they saw nothing. Her mind 
had gone back seven years. 

“Is it possible,” she exclaimed presently, “that that 
is my Eupert, my beautiful Eupert of the roseate 
cheeks, the Eupert of my heart, my only love ! The 
Endymion-like youth I watched for every day ; on 
whom I gazed and gazed and worshiped and longed 
for when he had gone ; of whom I dreamed ; to whom 
my soul went out in poetry ; whose miniature I would 
have painted on the finest ivory if I had known how 
bo paint 5 and whose image thus created I would have 
109 


THE CAPTAINS TOLL-GATE 


worn next my heart, to look at every Instant I found 
myself alone, if it had not been that my dresses were 
all fastened down the back ! I am going to him this 
instant ! I must see him again ! My Rupert, my 
only love ! ” And with this she started to the door. 

“Olive,” cried Mrs. Easterfield, springing from her 
chair, “stop ! Don’t you do that ! Come back. You 
must not—” 

But the girl had flown down the stairs and was gone. 


110 


CHAPTER XIII 


MR. LANCASTER’S BACKERS 

Olive found Mr. Hemphill under a tree upon the 
lawn. He was sitting on a low bench with one little 
girl upon each knee. He was not a stranger to the 
children, for they had frequently met him during 
their winter residences in cities. He was telling 
them a story when Olive approached. He made an 
attempt to rise, but the little girls would not let him 
put them down. 

“Don’t move, Mr. Hemphill,” said Olive ; “I am 
going to sit down myself.” And as she spoke she 
drew forward a low bench. “I am so glad to see you 
are fond of children, Mr. Hemphill,” she continued ; 
“you must have changed very much.” 

“Changed!” he exclaimed. “I have always been 
fond of them.” 

“Excuse me,” said Olive, “not always. I remem- 
ber a child you did not care for, on whom you did 
not even look, who was absolutely nothing to you, 
although you were so much to her.” 

Mr. Hemphill stared. “I do not remember such a 
child,” said he. 

“She existed,” said Olive. “I was that child.” 

Ill 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


And then she told him how she had seen him come 
to her father’s house. 

Mr. Hemphill remembered Lieutenant Asher, he 
remembered going to his house, but he did not re- 
member seeing there a little girl. 

“I was not so very little,” said Olive; “I was 
fourteen, and I was just at an age to be greatly at- 
tracted by you. I thought you were the most beau- 
tiful young man I had ever beheld. I don’t mind 
telling you, because I cannot look upon you as a 
Stranger, that I fell deeply in love with you.” 

As Mr. Hemphill sat and listened to these words 
his face turned redder than the reddest rose, even his 
silky whiskers seemed to redden, his fine-cut red lips 
were parted, but he could not speak. The two little 
girls had been gazing earnestly at Olive. How the 
elder one spoke. 

“I am in love,” she said. 

“And so am I,” piped up the younger one. 

“She’s in love with Martha’s little Jim,” said the 
first girl, “but I am in love with Henry. He’s eight. 
Both boys.” 

“I wouldn’t be in love with a girl,” said the little 
one, contemptuously. 

This interruption was a help to Mr. Hemphill, and 
his redness paled a little. 

“Of course you could not be expected to know 
anything of my feelings for you,” said Olive, “and 
perhaps it is very well you did not, for business is 
business, and the feelings of girls should not be al- 
lowed to interfere with it. But my heart went out 
to you all the same. You were my first love.” 

How Mr. Hemphill crimsoned again worse than 
112 


MR. LANCASTER’S BACKERS 


before. He bad not yet spoken a word, and there 
was no word in the English language which he 
thought would be appropriate for the occasion. 

“You may think I am a little cruel to plump this 
sort of thing upon you,” said Olive, “in such a sud- 
den way, but I am not. All this was seven years ago, 
and a person of my age can surely speak freely of 
what happened seven years ago. I did not even 
know you when I met you, but Mrs. Easterfield told 
me about you, and now I remember everything, and 
I think it would have been inhuman if I had not 
told you of the part you used to play in my life. 
You have a right to know it.” 

If Mr. Hemphill could have reddened any more he 
would have done so, but it was not possible. The 
thought flashed into his mind that it might be well 
to say something about her having found him very 
much changed, but in the next instant he saw that 
that would not do. How could he assume that he 
had ever been beautiful ? How could he force her to 
say that he was not beautiful now, or that he still 
remained so ? 

“I am very glad I have met you,” said Olive, 
“and that I know who you are. And I am glad, 
too, to tell you that I forgive you for not taking 
notice of me seven years ago.” 

“Is that all of your story?” asked the elder little 
girl. 

“Yes,” said Olive, laughing, “that is all.” 

“Well, then, let Mr. Hemphill go on with his,” said 
she. 

“Oh, certainly,” said Olive, jumping up ; “and you 
must all excuse me for interfering with your story.” 

113 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


Mr. Hemphill sat still, a little girl on each knee. 
He had not spoken a word since that beautiful girl 
had told him she had once loved him. And he could 
not speak now. 

“You look as if you had a plaster taken off,” said 
the younger little girl. And, after waiting a moment 
for an answer, she slipped off his knee; the other 
followed ; and the story was postponed. 

When Mrs. Easterfield heard Olive’s account of 
this incident she was utterly astounded. “What sort 
of a girl are you?” she exclaimed. “What are you 
going to do about it now?” 

“Ho?” said Olive, quietly. “I have done.” 

Mrs. Easterfield was in a state of great perplexity. 
She had already asked Mr. Hemphill to stay until Sat- 
urday, three days off, and she could not tell him to go 
away, and the awkwardness of his remaining in the 
same house with Olive was something not easy to deal 
with. 

During Olive’s interview with Mr. Hemphill and 
the little girls Claude Locker had been sitting alone 
at a distance, gazing at the group. He was waiting 
for an opportunity of social converse, for this was not 
forbidden him even if the time did not immediately 
precede the luncheon hour. He saw Hemphill’s blaz- 
ing face, and deeply wondered. If it had been the 
lady who had flushed he would have bounced upon 
the scene to defend her, but Olive was calm, and it 
was the conscious guilt of the man that made his face 
look like a freshly painted tin roof. This was an 
affair into which he had no right to intrude himself, 
and so he sat and sighed, and his heart grew heavy. 
How many ante-luncheon avowals would have to be 
114 


MR. LANCASTER’S BACKERS 


made before she would take so much interest in him, 
one way or the other ! 

Mr. Du Brant also sat at a distance. He was read- 
ing, or at least appearing to read ; but he was so unac- 
customed to holding a book in his hands that he did 
it very awkwardly, and Miss Raleigh, who was looking 
at him from the library window, made up her mind 
that if he dropped it, as she expected him to do, she 
would get the book and rub the dirt off the corners 
before it was put back into the bookcase. But when 
Olive left Mr. Hemphill she went so quickly into the 
house that the Austrian was unable to join her, and 
he, therefore, went to his room to prepare for dinner. 

Dick Lancaster had also been waiting, although not 
watching. He had hoped that he might have a 
chance for a little talk with Olive. But there was 
really no good reason to expect it, for he knew that 
two, and perhaps three, young men had stayed at 
home that afternoon in the hope that they might 
have the same opportunity. The odds against him 
were great. 

He began to think that perhaps he was engaged 
in a foolish piece of business, and was in danger of 
making himself disagreeably conspicuous. The other 
young men were guests at Broadstone, but if he 
came there every day as he had been doing, and as 
he wanted to do, it might be thought that he was 
taking advantage of Mrs. Easterfield’s kindness. At 
that moment he heard the rustle of skirts, and, glanc- 
ing up, saw Mrs. Easterfield, who was looking for him. 

Mrs. Easterfield’s regard for Lancaster was grow- 
ing, partly on account of the confidence she had al- 
ready reposed in him. In her present state of mind 
115 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


she would have been glad to give him still more, for 
she did not know what to do about Olive and Mr. 
Hemphill, and there was no one with whom she could 
talk upon the subject ; even if she had known Dick 
better, her loyalty to Olive would have prevented 
that. 

“Have you found out anything about the captain 
and Olive ? ” she asked. “Has he spoken of her re- 
turn? ” 

“Ho,” replied Dick ; “he has not said a word on 
the subject, but I am very sure he would be over- 
joyed to have her come back. Every day when the 
postman arrives I believe he looks for a letter from 
her, and he shows that he feels it when he finds none. 
He is good-natured and pleasant, but he is not as 
cheerful as when I first came.” 

“Every day,” said Mrs. Easterfield, as they walked 
together, “I love Olive more and more.” 

“So do I,” thought Dick. 

“But every day I understand her less and less,” 
she continued. “She is truly a navy girl, and repose 
does not seem to be one of her characteristics. From 
what she has told me I believe she has never lived in 
domestic peace and quiet until she came to stay with 
her uncle. It would delight me to see her properly 
married. I wish you would marry her.” 

Dick stopped, and so did she, and they stood look- 
ing at each other. He did not redden, for he was 
not of the flushing kind • his face even grew a little 
hard. 

“Do you believe,” said he, in a very different tone 
from his ordinary voice, “that I have the slightest 
chance ? ” 


116 


MR. LANCASTER’S BACKERS 


“Of course I do,” she answered. “I believe you 
have a very good chance, or I should not have spoken 
to you. I flatter myself that I have excellent judg- 
ment concerning young men, and I am very fond of 
Olive.” 

“Mrs. Easterfield,” exclaimed Dick, “you know I 
am in love with her. I suppose that has been easy 
enough to see, but it has all been very quick work 
with me ; in fact, I have had very little to say to her, 
and have never said anything that could in the slight- 
est degree indicate how I felt toward her. But I 
believe I loved her the second day I met her, and I 
am not sure it did not begin the day before.” 

“I think that sort of thing is always quick work 
where Olive is concerned,” said Mrs. Easterfield. “I 
think it likely that many young men have fallen in 
love with her, and that they have to be very lively if 
they want a chance to tell her so. But don’t be jeal- 
ous. I know positively that none of them ever had 
the slightest chance. But now all that is passed. 
I know she is tired of an unsettled life, and it is 
likely she may soon be thinking of marrying, and 
there will be no lack of suitors. She has them now. 
But I want her to marry you.” 

“Mrs. Easterfield,” exclaimed Dick, “you have 
known me but a very little while—” 

“Don’t mention that,” she interrupted. “I do 
quick work as well as other people. I never before 
engaged in any matchmaking business, but if this suc- 
ceeds, I shall be proud of it to the end of my days. 
You are in love with Olive, and she is worthy of you. 
I want you to try to win her, and I will do every- 
thing I can to help you. Here is my hand upon it.” 

117 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


As Dick held that hand and looked into that face 
a courage and a belief in himself came into his heart 
that had never been there before. By day and by 
night his soul had been filled with the image of Olive, 
but up to this moment he had not thought of marry- 
ing her. That was something that belonged to the 
future, not even considered in his state of inchoate 
adoration. But now that he had been told he had 
reason to hope, he hoped; and the fact that one 
beautiful woman told him he might hope to win 
another beautiful woman was a powerful encourage- 
ment. Henceforth he would not be content with 
simply loving Olive ; if it were within his power he 
would win, he would have her. 

“You look like a soldier going forth to conquest,” 
said Mrs. Easterfield, with a smile. 

“And you,” said he, impulsively, “you not only 
look like, but you are, an angel.” 

This was pretty strong for the young professor, but 
the lady understood him. She was very glad indeed 
that he could express himself impulsively, for with- 
out that power he could not win Olive. 

As Dick started away from Broadstone on his walk 
to the toll-gate he heard quick steps behind him and 
was soon overtaken by Claude Locker. 

“Hello,” said that young man ; “if you are on your 
way home I am going to walk awhile with you. I 
have not done a thing to-day.” 

When Dick heard these words his heart sank. He 
was on his way home accompanied by Olive— Olive 
in his heart, Olive in his soul, Olive in his brain, 
Olive in the sky and all over the earth. How dared a 
common mortal intrude himself upon the scene ? 

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MR. LANCASTER’S BACKERS 


11 There is another thing,” said Locker, who was 
now keeping step with him. “My soul is filled with 
murderous intent. I thirst for human life, and I 
need the restraints of companionship.” 

“Who is it you want to kill? ” asked Dick, coldly. 

“It is an Austrian,” replied the other. “I will 
not say what Austrian, leaving that to your imagina- 
tion. I don’t suppose you ever killed an Austrian. 
Neither have I, but I should like to do it. It would 
be a novel and delightful experience.” 

Dick did not think it necessary that he should be 
told more ; he perfectly understood the state of the 
case, for it was impossible not to see that this young 
man was paying marked attention to Olive, while 
Mr. Du Brant was doing the same thing. But still it 
seemed well to say something, and he remarked : 

“What is the matter with the Austrian? ” 

“He is in love with Miss Asher,” said Locker, 
“and so am I. I am beginning to believe he is posi- 
tively dangerous. I did not think so at first, but I 
do now. He has actually taken to reading. I know 
that man ; I have often seen him in Washington. He 
was always running after some lady or other, but I 
never knew him to read before. It is a dangerous 
symptom. He reads with one eye, while the other 
sweeps the horizon to catch a glimpse of her. By the 
way, that would be a splendid idea for a district 
policeman ; if he stood under a lamp -post in citizen’s 
dress reading a book, no criminal would suspect his 
identity, and he could keep one eye on the printed 
page, and devote the other to the cause of justice. 
But to return to our sallow mutton, or black sheep, if 
you choose. That Austrian ought to be killed ! ” 

119 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


Dick smiled sardonically. “He is not yonr only 
obstacle,” he said. 

“I know it,” replied Locker. “There’s that 
Chinese-laundried fellow, smooth-finished, who came 
up this morning. He must be an old offender, for I 
saw her giving it to him hot this morning. I am sure 
she was telling him exactly what she thought of him, 
for he turned as red as a pickled beet. So he will 
have to scratch pretty hard if he expects to get into 
her good graces again, and I suppose that is what he 
came here for. But I am not so much afraid of him 
as I am of that Austrian. If he keeps on the literary 
lay, and reads books with her, looking up the words 
in the dictionary, it is dangerous.” 

“I do not see,” said Lancaster, somewhat loftily, 
“why you speak of these things to me.” 

“Then I’ll tell you,” said Locker, quickly. “I 
speak of them to you because you are just as much 
concerned in them as I am. You are in love with 
Miss Asher,— anybody can see that,— and, in fact, I 
should think you were a pretty poor sort of a fellow 
if you were not, after having seen and talked with 
her. Consequently that Austrian is just as danger- 
ous to you as he is to me. And as I have chosen you 
for my brother-in-arms, it is right that I tell you 
everything I know.” 

“Brother-in-arms?” ejaculated Lick . 1 

“That is what it is,” said Locker, “and I will tell 
you how it came about. The Austrian looked upon 
you with scorn and contempt because you rode a 
horse wearing rolled-up trousers and low shoes. As 
you did not see him and could not return the con- 
tempt, I did it for you. Having done this, a fellow 
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MR. LANCASTER’S BACKERS 


feeling for you immediately sprang up within me. 
That is what always happens, you know. After that 
the feeling became a good deal stronger, and I said 
to myself that if I found I could not get Miss Asher,— 
and it’s seventy-six I don’t, for that’s generally the 
state of my luck,— I would help you to get her, partly 
because I like you, and partly because that Austrian 
must be ousted, no matter what happens or how it is 
done. So I became your brother-in-arms, and if I 
find I am out of the race, I am going to back you up 
just as hard as I can, and here’s my hand upon it.” 

Dick stopped as he had stopped half an hour be- 
fore, and gazed upon his companion. 

“Now don’t thank me,” continued Locker, “or say 
anything nice, because if I find I can come in ahead 
of you I am going to do it. But if we work together 
I am sure we need not be afraid of that Austrian, or 
of that fiery-faced model for a ready-made clothes 
shop. It is to be either you or me— first place for 
me, if possible.” 

Dick could not help laughing. “You are a jolly 
sort of a fellow,” said he, “and I will be your brother- 
in-arms. But it is to be first place for me, if possi- 
ble.” And they shook hands upon the bargain. 

That evening Mr. Hemphill found Olive alone. “I 
have been trying to get a chance to speak to you, 
Miss Asher,” said he. “I want to ask you to help 
me, for I do not know what in the world to do.” 

Olive looked at him inquiringly. 

“Since you spoke to me this afternoon,” he went 
on, “I have been in a state of most miserable embar- 
rassment : I cannot for the life of me decide what I 
ought to say or what I ought to do, or what I ought 
121 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


not to say or what I ought not to do. If I should 
pass over as something not necessary to take into con- 
sideration the— the — most unusual statement you made 
to me, it might be that you would consider me as a 
boor, a man incapable of appreciating the — the — 
highest honors. Then again, if I do say anything to 
show that I appreciate such honors, you may well 
consider me presumptuous, conceited, and even insult- 
ing. I thought awhile ago that I would leave this 
house before it would be necessary for me to decide 
how I should act when I met you, but I could not do 
that. Explanations would be necessary, and I would 
not be able to make them, and so, in sheer despair, I 
have come to you. Whatever you say I ought to do 
I will do. Of myself, I am utterly helpless.” 

Olive looked at him with serious earnestness. “ You 
are in a queer position,” she said, “and I don’t wonder 
you do not know what to do. I did not think of this 
peculiar consequence which would result from my 
revelation. As to the revelation itself, there is no 
use talking about it ; it had to be made. It would 
have been unjust and wicked to allow a man to live in 
ignorance of the fact that such a thing had happened 
to him without his knowing it. But I think I can 
make it all right for you. If you had known when 
you were very young, in fact, when you were in 
another age of man, that a young girl in short dresses 
was in love with you, would you have disdained her 
affection?” 

“I should say not!” exclaimed Rupert Hemphill, 
his eyes fixed upon the person who had once been 
that girl in short dresses. 

“Well, then,” said Olive, “there could have been 
122 


MR. LANCASTER’S BACKERS 


nothing for her to complain of, no matter what she 
knew or what she did not know, and there is nothing 
he could complain of, no matter what he knew or did 
not know. And as both these persons have passed 
entirely out of existence, I think you and I need con- 
sider them no longer. And we can talk about tennis 
or bass fishing, or anything we like. And if you are 
a fisherman you will be glad to hear that there is first- 
rate bass fishing in the river now, and that we are 
talking of getting up a regular fishing party. We 
shall have to go two or three miles below here, where 
the water is deeper and there are not so many rocks.” 

That night Mr. Hemphill dreamed hard of a girl 
who had loved him when she was little, and who con- 
tinued to love him now that she had grown to be won- 
derfully handsome. He was going out to sail with 
her in a boat far and far away, where nobody could 
find them or bring them back. 


123 


CHAPTER XIY 


A LETTER FOR OLIVE 

The next morning, about an hour after breakfast, 
Mr. Du Brant proposed to Olive. He bad received 
a letter the day before which made it probable that 
he might be recalled to Washington before the time 
which had been fixed for the end of his visit at Broad- 
stone, and he consequently did not wish to defer for 
a moment longer than was necessary this most impor- 
tant business of his life. He told Miss Asher that he 
had never truly loved before ; which was probably 
correct ; and that as she had raised his mind from the 
common things of earth, upon which it had been ac- 
customed to grovel, she had made a new man of him 
in an astonishingly short time $ which, it is likely, was 
also true. 

He assured her that, without any regard to outside 
circumstances, he could not live without her. If at 
any other time he had allowed his mind to dwell for 
a moment upon matrimony, he had thought of family, 
position, wealth, social station, and all that sort of 
thing, but now he thought of nothing but her, and he 
came to offer her his heart. In fact, the man was truly 
and honestly in love. 

Inwardly Olive smiled. “I cannot ask him,” she 
124 


A LETTER FOR OLIVE 


said to herself, “to say this again every day before 
dinner. He hasn’t the wit of Claude Locker, and 
would not be able to vary his remarks ; but I cannot 
blast his hopes too suddenly, for, if I do that, he will 
instantly go away, and it would not be treating Mrs. 
Easterfield properly if I were to break up her party 
without her knowledge. But I will talk to her about 
it. And now for him.— Mr. Du Brant,” she said 
aloud, speaking in English, although he had proposed 
to her in French, because she thought she could make 
her own language more impressive, “it is a very seri- 
ous thing you have said to me, and I don’t believe you 
have had time enough to think about it properly. 
How don’t interrupt. I know exactly what you would 
say. You have known me such a little while that 
even if your mind is made up it cannot be properly 
made up, and therefore, for your own sake, lam go- 
ing to give you a chance to think it all over. You 
must not say you don’t want to, because I want you 
to ; and when you have thought, and thought, and 
know yourself better — now don’t say you cannot 
know yourself better if you have a thousand years in 
which to consider it— for though you think that it is 
true it is not—” 

“And if I rack my brains and my heart,” inter- 
rupted Mr. Du Brant, “and find out that I can never 
change nor feel in any other way toward you than I 
feel now, may I then—” 

“How, don’t say anything about that,” said Olive. 
“What I want to do now is to treat you honorably and 
fairly, and to give you a chance to withdraw if, after 
sober consideration, you think it best to do so. I be- 
lieve that every young man who thinks himself corn- 
125 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


pelled to propose marriage in such hot haste ought to 
have a chance to reflect quietly and coolly, and to with- 
draw if he wants to. And that is all, Mr. Du Brant. 
I must be off this minute, for Mrs. Easterfield is over 
there waiting for me.” 

Mr. Du Brant walked thoughtfully away. “I do 
not understand,” he said to himself in French, “why 
she did not tell me I need not speak to her again about 
it. The situation is worthy of diplomatic considera- 
tion, and I will give it that.” 

From a distance Claude Locker beheld his Austrian 
enemy walking alone and without a book. 

“Something has happened,” he thought, “and the 
fellow has changed his tactics. Before, under cover 
of a French novel, he was a snake in the grass ; now 
he is a snake hopping along on the tip of his 
tail. Perhaps he thinks this is a better way to 
keep a lookout upon her. I believe he is more 
dangerous than he was before, for I don’t know 
whether a snake on tiptail jumps or falls down upon 
his victims.” 

One thing Mr. Locker was firmly determined upon. 
He was going to try to see Olive as soon as it was pos- 
sible before luncheon, and impress upon her the ar- 
dent nature of his feelings toward her ; he did not 
believe he had done this yet. He looked about him. 
The party, excepting himself and Mr. Du Brant, were 
on the front lawn ; he would join them and satirize 
the gloomy Austrian. If Olive could be made to laugh 
at him it would be like preparing a garden-bed with 
spade and rake before sowing his seeds. 

The rural mail-carrier came earlier than usual that 
day, and he brought Olive but one letter $ but as it was 
126 


A LETTER FOR OLIVE 


from her father, she was entirely satisfied, and retired 
to a bench to read it. 

In about ten minutes after that she walked into 
Mrs. Easterfield’s little room, the open letter in her 
hand. As Mrs. Easterfield looked up from her writ- 
ing-table the girl seemed transformed ; she was taller, 
she was straighter, her face had lost its bloom, and her 
eyes blazed. 

“ Would you believe it ! ” she said, grating out the 
words as she spoke. “My father is going to be mar- 
ried ! ” 

Mrs. Easterfield dropped her pen, and her face lost 
color. She had always been greatly interested in 
Lieutenant Asher. “What!” she exclaimed. “He? 
And to whom ? ” 

“A girl I used to go to school with,” said Olive, 
standing as if she were framed in one solid piece. 
“Edith Marshall, living in Geneva. She is older than 
I am, but we were in the same classes. They are to be 
married in October, and she is to sail for this country 
about the time his ship comes home. He is to be sta- 
tioned at Governor’s Island, and they are to have a 
house there. He writes, and writes, and writes, about 
how lovely it will be for me to have this dear new 
mother. Me ! To call that thing mother ! I shall 
have no mother, but I have lost my father.” With 
this she threw herself upon a lounge, and burst into 
passionate tears. Mrs. Easterfield rose, and closed the 
door. 

Claude Locker had no opportunity to press his suit 
before luncheon, for Olive did not come to that meal ; 
she had one of her headaches. Every one seemed to 
appreciate the incompleteness of the party, and even 
127 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


Mrs. Easterfield looked serious, which was not usual 
with her. Mr. Hemphill was much cast down, for he 
had made up his mind to talk to Olive in such a way 
that she should not fail to see that he had taken to 
heart her advice, and might be depended upon to de- 
port himself toward her as if he had never heard the 
words she had addressed to him. He had prepared 
several topics for conversation, but as he would not 
waste these upon the general company, he indulged 
only in such remarks as were necessary to good man- 
ners. 

Mr. Du Brant talked a good deal in a perfunctory 
manner, but inwardly he was somewhat elated. “Her 
emotions must have been excited more than I sup- 
posed,” he thought. “That is not a bad sign.” 

Mrs. Fox was a little bit— a very little bit— an- 
noyed because Mr. Fox did not make as many face- 
tious remarks as was his custom. He seemed like 
one who, in a degree, felt that he lacked an audience ; 
Mrs. Fox could see no good reason for this. 

When Mrs. Easterfield went up to Olive’s room 
she found her bathing her eyes in cold water. 

“Will you lend me a bicycle?” said Olive. “I 
am sure you have one.” 

Mrs. Easterfield looked at her in amazement. 

“I want to go to my uncle,” said Olive. “He is 
now all I have left in this world. I have been think- 
ing, and thinking about everything, and I want to 
go to him. Whatever has come between us will 
vanish as soon as he sees me, I am sure of that. I do 
not know why he did not want me to came back to 
him, but he will want me now, and I should like to 
start immediately without anybody seeing me.” 

128 


A LETTER FOR OLIVE 


“But a bicycle ! ” exclaimed Mrs. Easterfield. 
“You can’t go that way. I will send you in the car- 
riage.” 

“No, no, no,” cried Olive $ “I want to go quietly. 
I want to go so that I can leave my wheel at the door 
and go right in. I have a short walking-skirt, and 
I can wear that. Please let me have the bicycle.” 

Mrs. Easterfield made Olive sit down and she 
talked to her, but there was no changing the girl’s 
determination to go to her uncle, to go alone, and 
to go immediately. 


129 


CHAPTER XV 


olive’s bicycle trip 

Despite Olive’s desire to set forth immediately on 
her bicycle trip, it was past the middle of the after- 
noon when she left Broadstone. She went out 
quietly, not by the usual driveway, and was soon 
upon the turnpike road. As she sped along, the cool 
air upon her face refreshed her j and the knowledge 
that she was so rapidly approaching the dear old 
toll-gate, where, even if she did not find her uncle at 
the house, she could sit with old J ane until he came 
back, gave her strength and courage. 

Up a long hill she went, and down again to the 
level country. Then there was a slighter rise in the 
road, and when she reached its summit she saw, less 
than a mile away, the toll-gate surrounded by its 
trees, the thick foliage of the fruit-trees in the gar- 
den, the little tollhouse and the long bar, standing 
up high at its customary incline upon the opposite 
side of the road. Down the little hill she went ; and 
then, steadily and swiftly, onward. Presently she 
saw that some one was on the piazza by the side 
of the tollhouse ; his back was toward her, he was 
sitting in his accustomed arm-chair. She could not be 
mistaken ; it was her uncle. 

130 


OLIVE’S BICYCLE TRIP 


Now and then, while upon the road, she had 
thought of what she should say when she first met 
him, but she had soon dismissed all ideas of precon- 
ceived salutations or explanations. She would be 
there, and that would be enough. Her father’s letter 
was in her pocket, and that was too much. All she 
meant to do was to glide up to that piazza, spring up 
the steps, and present herself to her uncle’s aston- 
ished gaze before he had any idea that any one was 
approaching. 

She was within twenty feet of the piazza when she 
saw that her uncle was not alone j there was some one 
sitting in front of him who had been concealed by his 
broad shoulders. This person was a woman. She 
had caught sight of Olive, and stuck her head out on 
one side to look at her. Upon her dough-like face 
there was a grin, and in her eye a light of triumph. 
With one quick glance she seemed to say : “Ah, ha, 
you find me here, do you? What have you to say to 
that?” 

Olive’s heart stood still. That woman, that Maria 
Port, sitting in close converse with her uncle in that 
public place where she had never seen any one but 
men ! That horrid woman at such a moment as this ! 
She could not speak to her ; she could not speak to 
her uncle in her presence. She could not stop. With 
what she had on her mind, and with what she had 
in her pocket, it would be impossible to say a word 
before that Maria Port ! Without a swerve she sped 
on, and passed the toll-gate. She only knew one 
thing : she could not stop. 

The wildest suspicions now rushed into her mind. 
Why should her uncle be thus exposing himself to the 
131 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


public gaze with Maria Port ? Why did it give the 
woman such diabolical pleasure to be seen there with 
him? With a mind already prepared for such sick- 
ening revelations, Olive was convinced that it could 
mean nothing but that her uncle intended to marry 
Maria Port. What else could it mean ? But no mat- 
ter what it meant, she could not stop $ she could not 
go back. 

On went her bicycle, and presently she gained suffi- 
cient command over herself to know that she should 
not ride into the town. But what else could she do ? 
She could not go back while those two were sitting on 
the piazza. Suddenly she remembered the shunpike. 
She had never been on it, but she knew where it left 
the road and where it reentered it. So she kept on 
her course, and in a few minutes had reached the 
narrow country road. There were ruts here and there, 
and sometimes there were stony places $ there were 
small hills, mostly rough ; and there were few stretches 
of smooth road : but on went Olive, sometimes try- 
ing, with much effort, to make good time, and always 
with tears in her eyes, dimming the roadway, the 
prospect, and everything in the world. 

“There, now !” exclaimed Maria Port, springing to 
her feet. “What have you got to say to that? If 
that isn’t brazen I never saw brass ! ” 

“What do you mean?” said the captain, rising in 
his chair. 

“Mean?” said Maria Port, leaning over the railing. 
“Look there ! Do you see that girl getting away as 
fast as she can work herself? That’s your precious 
niece, Olive Asher, scooting past us with her nose in 
the air as if we was sticks and stones by the side of 
132 


OLIVE’S BICYCLE TRIP 


the road. What have you got to say to that, Captain 
John, I’d like to know? ” 

The captain ran down the path. “You don’t mean 
to say that is Olive ! ” he cried. 

“That’s who it is,” answered Miss Port. “She 
looked me square in the face as she dashed by. Not 
a word for you, not a word for me. Impudence ! That 
doesn’t express it !” 

The captain paid no attention to her, but ran into the 
garden. Old Jane was standing near the house door 
“Was that Miss Olive?” he cried. “Did you see her? ” 

“Yes,” said old Jane, “it was her. I saw her cornin’, 
and I came out to meet her. But she just shot through 
the toll-gate as if she didn’t know there was a toll on 
bicycles.” 

The captain stood still in the garden-path. He 
could not believe that Olive had done this to treat 
him with contempt. She must have heard some news. 
There must be something the matter. She was going 
into town at the top of her speed to send a telegram, 
intending to stop as she came back. She might have 
stopped anyway if it had not been for that good-for- 
nothing Maria Port. She hated Maria, and he hated 
her himself at this moment, as she stood by his side, 
asking him what was the matter with him. 

“It’s no more than you have to expect,” said she. 
“She’s a fine lady, a navy lady, a foreign lady, that’s 
been with the aristocrats ! She’s got good clothes on 
that she never wore here, and where I guess she had 
a pretty stupid time, judgin’ from how they carry on 
at that Easterfield place. Why in the world should 
she want to stop and speak to such persons as you 
and me ? ” 


133 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


The captain paid no attention to these remarks. 
“If she doesn’t want to send a telegram, I don’t see 
what she is going to town for in such a hurry. I 
suppose she thought she could get there sooner than 
a man could go on a horse,” he said. 

“Telegram!” sneered Miss Port. “It’s a great 
deal easier to send telegrams from the gap.” 

“Then it is something worse,” he thought. Per- 
haps she might be running away, though what in the 
world she was running from he could not imagine. 
Anyway, he must see her ; he must find out. When 
she came back she must not pass again, and if she did 
not come back he must go after her. He ran to the 
road and put down the bar, calling to old Jane to 
come there and keep a sharp lookout. Then he 
quickly returned to the house. 

“What are you going to do?” asked Miss Port. 
“I never saw a man in such a fluster.” 

“If she does not come back very soon,” said he, “I 
shall go to town after her.” 

“Then I suppose I might as well be going myself,” 
said she. “And by the way, captain, if you are 
going to town, why don’t you take a seat in my car- 
riage ? Dear knows, me and the boy don’t fill it.” 

But the captain would consider no such invitation. 
When he met Olive he did not want Maria Port to 
be along. He did not answer, and went into the 
house to make some change in his attire. Old Jane 
would not let Olive pass, and if he met her on the 
road or in the town he wanted to be well dressed. 

Miss Port still stood in the path by the house door. 
“That’s not what I call polite,” said she, “but he’s 
awful flustered, and I don’t mind.” 

134 


OLIVE’S BICYCLE TRIP 


Far from minding, Maria was pleased ; it pleased 
her to know that his niece’s conduct had flustered 
him. The more that girl flustered him the better it 
would be, and she smiled with considerable satisfac- 
tion. If she could get that girl out of the way she 
believed she would find but little difficulty in carry- 
ing out her scheme to embitter the remainder of the 
good captain’s life. She did not put it in that way 
to herself; but that was the real character of the 
scheme. 

Suddenly an idea struck her. It was of no use for 
her to stand and wait, for she knew she would not be 
able to induce the captain to go with her. It would 
be a great thing if she could, for to drive into town 
with him by her side would go far to make the peo- 
ple of Glenford understand what was going to hap- 
pen. But, if she could not do this, she could do 
something else. If she started away immediately she 
might meet that Asher girl coming back, and it 
would be a very fine thing if she could have an inter- 
view with her before she saw her uncle. 

She made a quick step toward the house and looked 
in. The captain was not visible, but old Jane was 
standing near the back door of the tollhouse. The 
opportunity was not to be lost. 

“ Good-by, John,” said she in a soft tone, but quite 
loud enough for the old woman to hear. “I’ll go 
home first, for I’ve got to see to gettin’ supper ready 
for you. So good-by, John, for a little while.” And 
she kissed her hand to the inside of the house. 

Then she hurried out of the gate, got into the little 
phaeton which was waiting for her under a tree, and 
drove away. She had come there that afternoon on 
135 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


the pretence of consulting the captain about her 
father’s health, which she said disturbed her, and she 
had requested the privilege of sitting on the toll-gate 
piazza because she had always wanted to sit there, and 
had never been invited. The captain had not invited 
her then, but as she had boldly marched to the piazza 
and taken a seat, he had been obliged to follow. 

Captain Asher, wearing a good coat and hat, re- 
lieved old Jane at her post, and waited and waited for 
Olive to come back. He did not for a moment think 
she might return by the shunpike, for that was a rough 
road, not fit for a bicycle. And if she passed this way 
once, why should she object to doing it again? 

When more than time enough had elapsed for her 
return from the town, he started forth with a heavy 
heart to follow her. He told old Jane that if for any 
reason he should be detained in town until late, he 
would take supper with Mr. Port, and if, although 
he did not expect this, he should not come back that 
night, the Ports would know of his whereabouts. He 
did not take his horse and buggy because he thought 
it would be in his way. If he met Olive in the road 
he could more easily stop and talk to her if he were 
walking than if he had a horse to take care of. 

“I hope you’re not runnin’ after Miss Olive,” said 
old Jane. 

The captain did not wish his old servant to imag- 
ine that it was necessary for him to run after his 
niece, and so he answered rather quickly : “Of course 
not.” Then he set off toward the town. He did not 
walk very fast, for if he met Olive he would rather 
have a talk with her on the road than in Glenford. 

He walked on and on, not with his eyes on the 
136 


OLIVE’S BICYCLE TRIP 


smooth surface of the pike, but looking out afar, 
hoping that he might soon see the figure of a girl on a 
bicycle ; and thus it was that he passed the entrance 
to the shunpike without noticing that a bicycle track 
turned into it. 

Olive struggled on, and the road did not improve. 
She worked hard with her body, but still harder with 
her mind. It seemed to her as though everything were 
endeavoring to crush her, and that it was almost suc- 
ceeding. If she had been in her own room, seated, or 
walking the floor, indignation against her uncle would 
have given her the same unnatural vigor and energy 
which had possessed her when she read her father’s 
letter ; but it is impossible to be angry when one is 
physically tired and depressed, and this was Olive’s 
condition now. Once she dismounted, sat down on a 
piece of rock, and cried. The rest was of service to 
her, but she could not stay there long ; the road was 
too lonely. She must push on. So on she pressed, 
sometimes walking, and sometimes on her wheel, the 
pedals apparently growing stiffer at every turn. 
Slight mishaps she did not mind, but a fear began to 
grow upon her that she would never be able to reach 
Broadstone at all. But after a time— a very long time 
it seemed— the road grew more level and smooth; 
and then ahead she saw the white surface of the turn- 
pike shining as it passed the end of her road. When 
she should emerge on that smooth, hard road, it could 
not be long, even if she went slowly, before she reached 
home. She was still some fifty yards from the pike 
when she saw a man upon it, walking southward. 

As Dick Lancaster passed the end of the road he 
lifted his head and looked along it. It was strange 
137 


THE CAPTAINS TOLL-GATE 


that he should do so, for since he had started on his 
homeward walk he had not raised his eyes from the 
ground. He had reached Broadstone soon after lunch- 
eon, before Olive had left on her wheel, and had passed 
rather a stupid time, playing tennis with Claude 
Locker. He had seen but little of Mrs. Easterfield, 
whose mind was evidently occupied. Once she had 
seemed about to take him into her confidence, but had 
suddenly excused herself, and had gone into the house. 
When the game was finished Locker advised him to 
go home. 

“She is not likely to be down until dinner- time, 1 ” 
he had said, “and this evening I’ll defend our cause 
against those other fellows. I have several good 
things in my mind that I am sure will interest her, 
and I don’t believe there’s any use courting a girl 
unless you interest her.” 

Lancaster had taken the advice, and had left much 
earlier than was usual. 


133 


CHAPTER XVI 


MR. LANCASTER ACCEPTS A MISSION 

When Dick Lancaster saw Olive he stopped with a 
start, and then ran toward her. 

“Miss Asher ! ” he exclaimed. “What are you 
doing here? What is the matter? You look pale.” 

When she saw him coming Olive had dismounted, 
not with the active spring usual with her, but heavily 
and clumsily. She did not even smile as she spoke to 
him. 

“I am glad to see you, Mr. Lancaster,” she said. 
“I am on my way back to Broadstone, and I would 
like to send a message to my uncle by you.” 

“Back from where? And why on this road?” he 
was about to ask, but he checked himself. He saw 
that she trembled as she stood. 

“Miss Asher,” said he, “you must stop and rest. 
Let me take your wheel, and come over to this bank 
and sit down.” 

She sat down in the shade and took off her hat ; and 
for a moment she quietly enjoyed the cool breeze 
upon her head. He did not want to annoy her with 
questions, but he could not help saying : 

“You look very tired.” 

“I ought to be tired,” she answered, “for I have 
gone over a perfectly dreadful road. Of course, you 
139 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


wonder why I came this way, and the best thing for 
me to do is to begin at the beginning and to tell you all 
about it, so that you will know what I have been 
doing, and then understand what I would like you 
to do for me.” 

So she told him all her tale, and telling it seemed 
to relieve her mind while her tired body rested. 
Dick listened with earnest avidity. He lost not the 
slightest change in her expression as she spoke. He 
was shocked when he heard of her father j he was 
grieved when he imagined how she must have felt 
when the news came to her ; he was angry when he 
heard of the impertinent glare of Maria Port ; and 
his heart was torn when he knew of this poor girl’s 
disappointment, of her soul-harrowing conjectures, 
of her wearisome and painful progress along that 
rough road; of which progress she said but little, 
although its consequences he could plainly see. All 
these things showed themselves upon his countenance 
as he gazed upon her and listened, not only with his 
ears but his heart. 

“I shall be more than glad,” he said, when she had 
finished, “to carry any message or to do anything 
you want me to do. But I must first relieve you of 
one of your troubles. Your uncle has not the slight- 
est idea of marrying Miss Port. I don’t believe he 
would marry anybody ; but, of all women, not that 
vulgar creature. Let me assure you, Miss Asher, 
that I have heard him talk about her, and I know he 
has the 'most contemptuous opinion of her. I have 
heard him make fun of her, and I don’t believe he 
would have anything to do with her if it were not for 
her father, who is one of his oldest friends.” 

140 


MR. LANCASTER ACCEPTS A MISSION 


She looked at him incredulously. “And yet they 
were sitting close together / 7 she said,— “so close that 
at first I did not see her,— apparently talking in the 
most private manner in a very public place. They 
surely looked very much like an engaged couple as I 
have noticed them. And old Jane has told me that 
everybody knows she is trying to trap him ; and 
surely there is good reason to believe that she has 
succeeded .’ 7 

Dick shook his head. “Impossible, Miss Asher , 77 
he said. “He never would have such a woman. I 
know him well enough to be absolutely sure of that. 
Of course, he treats her kindly, and perhaps he is 
sociable with her. It is his nature to be friendly, 
and he has known her for a long time. But marry 
her ! Never ! I am certain, Miss Asher, he would 
never do that . 77 

“I wish I could believe it , 77 said she. 

“I can easily prove it to you , 77 he said. “I will 
take your message to your uncle, I will tell him all 
you want me to tell him, and then I will ask him, 
frankly and plainly, about Miss Port. I do not in 
the least object to doing it. I am well enough ac- 
quainted with him to know that he is a frank, plain 
man. I am sure he will be much amused at your 
supposition, and angry, too, when I tell him of the 
way that woman looked at you and so prevented you 
from stopping when you had come expressly to see 
him. Then I will immediately come to Broadstone 
to relieve your mind in regard to the Maria Port 
business, and to bring you whatever message your 
uncle has to send you . 77 

“No, no , 77 said Olive, “you must not do that. It 
141 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


would be too much to come back to-day. You have 
relieved my mind somewhat about that woman, and 
I am perfectly willing to wait until to-morrow, when 
you can tell me exactly how everything is, and let me 
know when my uncle would like me to come and see 
him. I think it will be better next time not to take 
him by surprise. But I would be very, very grateful 
to you, Mr. Lancaster, if you would come as early in 
the morning as you can. I can wait very well until 
then, now that my mind is easier, but I am afraid that 
when to-morrow begins I shall be very impatient. My 
troubles are always worse in the morning. But you 
must not walk. My uncle has a horse and buggy. 
But perhaps it would be better to let Mrs. Easter- 
field send for you. I know she will be glad to 
do it.” 

Dick assured her that he did not wish to be sent 
for ; that he would borrow the captain’s horse, and 
would be at Broadstone as early as was proper to make 
a visit. 

“ Proper ! ” exclaimed Olive. “In a case like this 
any time is proper. In Mrs. Easterfield’s name I invite 
you to breakfast. I know she will be glad to have me 
do it. And now I must go on. You are very, very 
good, and I am very grateful.” 

Dick could not say that he was more grateful for 
being allowed to help her than she could possibly be 
for being helped, but his face showed it, and if she had 
looked at him she would have known it. 

“Miss Asher,” he exclaimed as she rose, “your 
skirt is covered with dust. You must have fallen.” 

“I did have one fall,” she said, “but I was so wor- 
ried I did not mind.” 


142 


MR. LANCASTER ACCEPTS A MISSION 


“But you cannot go back in that plight,” he said ; 
“let me dust your skirt.” And breaking a little 
branch from a bush, he proceeded to make her look pre- 
sentable. “And now,” said he, when she had compli- 
mented him upon his skill, “I will walk with you to 
the entrance of the grounds. Perhaps, as you are so 
tired,” he said hesitatingly, “I can help you along, so 
that you will not have to work so hard yourself.” 

“Oh, no,” she answered ; “that is not at all neces- 
sary. When I am on the turnpike I can go beauti- 
fully. I feel ever so much rested and stronger, and it 
is all due to you. So you see, although you will not go 
with me, you will help me very much.” And she 
smiled as she spoke. He truly had helped her very 
much. 

Dick was unwilling that she should go on alone, al- 
though it was still broad daylight and there was no pos- 
sible danger, and he was also unwilling because he 
wanted to go with her, but there was no use saying 
anything or thinking anything, and so he stood and 
watched her rolling along until she had passed the top 
of a little hill, and had departed from his view. Then 
he ran to the top of the little hill, and watched her 
until she was entirely out of sight. 

The rest of the way to the toll-gate seemed very 
short to Dick, but he had time enough to make up his 
mind that he would see the captain at the earliest pos- 
sible moment ; that he would deliver his message and 
the letter of Lieutenant Asher ; that he would imme- 
diately bring up the matter of Maria Port and let the 
captain know the mischief that woman had done. 
Then, armed with the assurances the captain would 
give him, he would start for Broadstone after supper, 
143 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


and carry the good news to Olive. It would be a shame 
to let that dear girl remain in suspense for the whole 
night, when he, by riding or even walking an incon- 
siderable number of miles, could relieve her. He 
found old Jane in the tollhouse. 

“ Where is the captain?” he asked. 

“The captain?” she repeated. “He’s in town 
takin’ supper with his sweetheart.” 

Hick stared at her. 

“Perhaps you haven’t heard that he’s engaged to 
Maria Port,” said the woman ; “and I don’t wonder 
you’re taken back ! But I suppose everybody will 
soon know it now, and the sooner the better, I say.” 

“What are you talking about?” exclaimed Hick. 
“You don’t mean to tell me that the captain is going 
to marry Miss Port?” 

“Whether he wants to or not, he’s gone so far he’ll 
have to. I’ve knowed for a long time she’s been after 
him, but I didn’t think she’d catch him just yet.” 

“I don’t believe it,” cried Hick. “It must be a 
mistake ! How do you know it ? ” 

“Know? ” said old Jane, who, ordinarily a taciturn 
woman, was now excited and inclined to volubility. 
“Hon’t you suppose I’ve got eyes and ears? Hidn’t 
I see them for ever and ever so long sittin’ out on this 
piazza, where everybody could see ’em, a-spoonin’ like 
a couple of young people ? And didn’t I see ’em tearin’ 
themselves asunder as if they couldn’t bear to be apart 
for an hour ? And didn’t I hear her tell him she was 
goin’ home to get an extry good supper for him ? And 
didn’t I hear her call him ‘dear John,’ and kiss her 
hand to him ? And if you don’t believe me you can go 
into the kitchen and ask Mary ; she heard the ‘ dear 
144 


MR. LANCASTER ACCEPTS A MISSION 


John ’ and saw the hand-kissin’. And then didn’t he 
tell me he was goin’ to the Ports’ to supper, and if he 
stayed late and anybody asked for him— meanin’ you, 
most probable, and I think he might have left some- 
thin’ more of a message for you— that he was to be 
found with the Ports— with Maria most likely, for the 
old man goes to bed early ? ” 

Dick made no answer ; he was standing motionless, 
looking out upon the flowers in the garden. 

“And perhaps you haven’t heard of Miss Olive 
cornin’ past on a bicycle,” old Jane remarked. “I 
saw her cornin’, and I knew by the look on her face 
that it made her sick to see that woman sittin’ here, 
and I don’t blame her a bit. When he started so early 
for town I thought he might be intendin’ to look for 
her, and yet be in time for the Ports’ supper ; but she 
didn’t come back this way at all, and I expect she 
went home by the shunpike.” 

“Which she did,” said Dick, showing by this re- 
mark that he was listening to what the old woman 
was saying. 

“But he cut me mighty short when I asked him,” 
continued old Jane. “I tried to ease his mind, but 
as I found his mind didn’t need no easin’, I minded my 
own business, just as he was mindin’ his. And now, 
sir, you’ll have to eat your supper alone this time.” 

If Dick’s supper had consisted of nectar and the 
brains of nightingales he would not have noticed it ; 
and, until late in the evening, he sat in the arbor, 
anxiously waiting for the captain’s return. About ten 
o’clock old Jane, sleepy from having sat up so long, 
called to him from the door that he might as well come 
in and let her lock up the house ; the captain was not 
145 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


coming home that night: he had stayed with the 
Ports once before, when the old man was sick. 

“I guess he’s got a better reason for stayin’ to- 
night,” she said. “It’ll be a great card for that Maria 
when the Glenford people knows it, and they’ll know 
it, you may be sure, if she has to go and walk the 
soles of her feet off tellin’ them. One thing’s mighty 
sure,” she continued. “I’m not goin’ to stay here 
with her in the house. He’ll have to get somebody 
else to help him take toll. But I guess she’ll want 
to do that herself. Nothin’ would suit her better 
than to be sittin’ all day in the tollhouse talkin’ 
scandal to everybody that goes by.” 


146 


CHAPTER XVII 


DICK IS NOT A PROMPT BEARER OF NEWS 

When the captain reached Glenford, and before he 
went to the Ports’, he went to the telegraph-office, 
and made inquiries at various other places, but his 
niece had not been seen in town. He wandered about 
so long and asked so many questions that it was get- 
ting dark when he suddenly thought of the shunpike. 
He had not thought of it before, for it was an unfit 
road for bicycles, but now he saw that he had been 
a fool. That was the only way she could have gone 
back. 

Hurrying to a livery-stable, he hired a horse and 
buggy and a lantern, and drove to the shunpike. 
There he plainly saw the track of the bicycle as it 
had turned into that rough road. Then he drove on, 
examining every foot of the way, fearful that he 
might see, lying senseless by the side of the road, the 
figure of a girl, perhaps unconscious from fatigue, 
perhaps dead from an accident. 

When at last he emerged upon the turnpike he lost 
the track of the bicycle, but still he went on, all the 
way to Broadstone j a girl might be lying senseless by 
the side of the road, even on the pike, which at this 
time was not much frequented. Thus assuring him- 
147 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


self that Olive had reached Broadstone in safety, or at 
least had not fallen by the way, he turned and drove 
back to town upon the pike, passing his own toll-gate, 
where the bar was always up after dark. He had 
promised to return the horse that night, and, as he 
had promised, he intended to do it. It was after nine 
o’clock when, returning from the livery-stable, he 
reached the Port house, and saw Maria sitting in the 
open doorway. 

She instantly ran out to meet him, asking him some- 
what sharply why he had disappointed them. She 
had kept the supper waiting ever so long. He went in 
to see her father, who was sitting up for him, and she 
busied herself in getting him a fresh supper. Nice 
and hot the supper was, and although his answers to 
her questions had not been satisfactory, she concealed 
her resentment, if she had any. When the meal was 
over, both father and daughter assured him that it 
was too late for him to go home that night, and that 
he must stay with them. Tired and troubled, Captain 
Asher accepted the invitation. 

As soon as he could get away from the Port resi- 
dence the next morning Captain Asher went home. 
He had hoped he would have been able to leave be- 
fore breakfast, but the solicitous Maria would not 
listen to this. She prepared him a most tempting 
breakfast, cooking some of the things with her own 
hands, and she was so attentive, so anxious to please, 
so kind in her suggestions, and in every way so desir- 
ous to make him happy through the medium of 
savory food and tender-hearted concern, that she 
almost made him angry. Never before, he thought, 
had he seen a woman make such a coddling fool of 
148 


DICK IS NOT PROMPT 


herself. He knew very well what it meant, and that 
provoked him still more. 

When at last he got away he walked home in a bad 
humor ; he was even annoyed with Olive. Granting 
that what she had done was natural enough under 
the circumstances, and that she had not wished to 
stop when she saw him in company with a woman she 
did not like, he thought she might have considered 
him as well as herself. She should have known that 
it would give him great trouble for her to dash by 
in that way, and neither stop nor come back to explain 
matters. She must have known that Maria Port was 
not going to stay always, and she might have waited 
somewhere until the woman had gone. If she had 
had the least idea of how much he wanted to see 
her she would have contrived some way to come back 
to him. But no; she went back to Broadstone to 
please herself, and left him to wander up and down 
the roads looking for her in the dark. 

When the captain met old Jane at the door of the 
tollhouse her salutation did not smooth his ruffled 
spirits, for she told him that she and Mr. Lancaster 
had sat up until nearly the middle of the night wait- 
ing for him, and that the poor young man must have 
felt it, for he had not eaten half a breakfast. 

The captain paid but little attention to these re- 
marks and passed in, but before he crossed the garden 
he met Dick, who informed him that he had some- 
thing very important to communicate. Important 
communications that must be delivered without a mo- 
ment’s loss of time are generally unpleasant, and 
knowing this, the captain knit his brows a little, but 
told Dick he would be ready for him as soon as he 
149 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


lighted his pipe. He felt he must have something to 
soothe his ruffled spirits while he listened to the tale 
of the woes of some one else. 

But at the moment he scratched his match to light 
his pipe his soul was illuminated by a flash of joy : 
perhaps Dick was going to tell him he was engaged 
to Olive j perhaps that was what she had come to tell 
him the day before. He had not expected to hear 
anything of this kind, at least not so soon, but it had 
been the wish of his heart, —he now knew that without 
appreciating the fact,— it had been the earnest wish 
of his heart for some time, and he stepped toward the 
little arbor with the alacrity of happy anticipation. 

As soon as they were seated Dick began to speak 
of Olive, but not in the way the captain had hoped 
for. He mentioned the great trouble into which she 
had been plunged, and gave the captain his brother’s 
letter to read. When he had finished it the captain’s 
face darkened, and his frown was heavy. 

“An outrageous piece of business,” he said, “to 
treat a daughter in this way— to put a schoolmate 
over her head in the family ! It is shameful ! And 
this is what she was coming to tell me ? ” 

“Yes,” said Dick, “that is it.” 

Now there was another flash of joy in the captain’s 
heart, which cleared up his countenance and made 
his frown disappear. “She was coming to me,” he 
thought. “I was the one to whom she turned in her 
trouble.” And it seemed to this good captain as if 
he had suddenly become the father of a grown-up 
daughter. 

“But what message did she send me?” he asked 
quickly. “Did she say when she was coming again?” 

150 


DICK IS NOT PROMPT 


Dick hesitated. Olive had said that she wanted her 
uncle to say when he wanted to see her, so that there 
should be no more surprising, but this request had 
been conditional. Dick knew that she did not want 
to come if her uncle were going to marry Miss Port ) 
therefore it was that he hesitated. 

“ Before we go any further,’’ he said, “I think I 
would better mention a little thing which will make 
you laugh, but still it did worry Miss Asher, and was 
one reason why she went back to Broadstone without 
stopping.” 

“What is it?” asked the captain, putting down his 
pipe. 

Dick did not come out plainly and frankly, as he 
had told Olive he would do when he mentioned the 
Maria Port matter. In his own heart he could not 
help believing now that Olive’s suspicions had had 
good foundations, and old Jane’s announcements, 
combined with the captain’s own actions in regard to 
the Port .family, had almost convinced him that this 
miserable engagement was a fact. But, of course, he 
would not in any way intimate to the captain that 
he believed in such nonsense, and therefore, in an off- 
hand manner, he mentioned Olive’s absurd anxiety 
in regard to Miss Port. 

When the captain heard Dick’s statement he an- 
swered it in the most frank and plain manner ; he 
brought his big hand down on his knee and swore as 
if one of his crew had boldly contradicted him. He 
did not swear at anybody in particular ; there was 
the roar and the crash of the thunder and the flash 
of the lightning, but no direct stroke descended upon 
any one. He was angry that such a repulsive and 
151 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


offensive thing as his marriage to Maria Port should 
be mentioned, or even thought of, but he was en- 
raged when he heard that his niece had believed him 
capable of such disgusting insanity. With a jerk he 
rose to his feet. 

“I will not talk about such a thing as this,” he said. 
“If I did I am sure I should say something hard about 
my niece, and I don’t want to do that.” With this he 
strode away, and proceeded to look after the concerns 
of his little farm. 

Old Jane came cautiously to Dick. “Did he tell 
you when it was going to be, or anything about it ? ” 
she asked. 

“No,” said Dick ; “he would not even speak of it.” 

“I suppose he expects us to mind our own busi- 
ness,” said she, “and of course we’ll have to do it ; 
but I can tell him one thing— I’m goin’ to make it my 
business to leave this place the day before that woman 
comes here.” 

Dejected and thoughtful, Dick sat in the arbor. 
Here was a state of affairs very different from what 
he had anticipated. He had not been able to hurry to 
her the evening before $ he had not gone to breakfast 
as she had invited him j he had not started off early in 
the forenoon ; and now he asked himself when should 
he go, or, indeed, why should he go at all ? She had 
no anxieties he could relieve. Anything he could tell 
her would only heap more unhappiness upon her, and 
the longer he could keep his news from her the better 
it would be for her. 

Olive had not joined the Broadstone party at din- 
ner the night before. She had been too tired, and had 
gone directly to her room, where, after a time, Mrs. 

152 


DICK IS NOT PROMPT 


Easterfield joined her ; and the two talked late. One 
who had overheard their conversation might well have 
supposed that the elder lady was as much interested 
in Lieutenant Asher’s approaching nuptials as was 
the younger one. When she was leaving Mrs. Easter- 
field said : 

“You have enough on your mind to give it all the 
trouble it ought to bear, and so I beg of you not to 
think for a moment of that absurd idea about your 
uncle’s engagement. I never saw the woman, but I 
have heard of her ; she is a professional scandal-mon- 
ger ; and Captain Asher would not think for a moment 
of marrying her. When Mr. Lancaster comes to-mor- 
row you will hear that she was merely consulting him 
on business, and that you are to go to the toll-gate to- 
morrow as soon as you can. But remember, this time 
I am going to send you in the carriage. No more 
bicycles.” 

In spite of this well-intentioned admonition, Olive 
did not sleep well, and dreamed all night of Miss Port 
in the shape of a great cat covered with feathers like 
a chicken, and trying to get a chance to jump at her. 
Very early she awoke, and looking at her clock, she 
began to calculate the hours which must pass before 
Mr. Lancaster could arrive. It was rather strange 
that of the two troubles which came to her as soon as 
she opened her eyes, the suspected engagement of her 
uncle pushed itself in front of the actual engagement 
of her father : the one was something she knew she 
would have to make up her mind to bear ; the other 
was something she feared she would have to make up 
her mind to bear. 


153 


CHAPTER XVIII 


WHAT OLIVE DETERMINED TO DO 

Olive was very much disappointed at breakfast- time, 
and as soon as she had v finished that meal she sta- 
tioned herself at a point on the grounds which com- 
manded the entrance. People came and talked to 
her, but she did not encourage conversation, and about 
eleven o’clock she went to Mrs. Easterfield in her 
room. 

“He is not coming,” she said. “He is afraid.” 

“What is he afraid of? ” asked Mrs. Easterfield. 

“He is afraid to tell me that the optimistic specu- 
lations with which he tried to soothe my mind arose 
entirely from his own imagination. The whole thing 
is exactly what I expected, and he hasn’t the courage 
to come and say so. Now, really, don’t you think this 
is the state of the case, and that if he had anything 
but the worst news to bring me he would have been 
here long ago ? ” 

Mrs. Easterfield looked very serious. “I would 
not give up,” she said, “until I saw Mr. Lancaster 
and heard what he has to say.” 

“That would not suit me,” said Olive. “I have 
waited and waited just as long as I can. It is as likely 
as not that he has concluded that he cannot do any- 
154 


WHAT OLIVE DETERMINED TO DO 


thing here which will be of service to any one, and has 
started off to finish his vacation at some place where 
people won’t bother him with their own affairs. He 
told me when I first met him that he was on his way 
North. And now, would you like me to tell you what 
I have determined to do f ” 

“I would,” said Mrs. Easterfield, but her expres- 
sion did not indicate that she expected Olive’s an- 
nouncement to give her any pleasure. 

“I have been considering it all the morning,” said 
Olive, “and I have determined to marry without de- 
lay. The greatest object of my life at present is to 
write to my father that I am married. I don’t wish 
to tell him anything until I can tell him that. I 
would also be glad to be able to send the same 
message to the toll-gate house, but I don’t suppose it 
will make much difference there.” 

“Do you think,” said Mrs. Easterfield, “that my 
inviting you here made all this trouble ? ” 

“No,” said Olive. “It was not the immediate 
cause, but uncle knows I do not like that woman, 
and she doesn’t like me, and it would not have suited 
him to have me stay very much longer with him. I 
thought at first he was glad to have me go on 
account of Mr. Lancaster, but now I do not believe 
that had anything to do with it. He did not want 
me with him, and what that woman came here and 
told me about his not expecting me back again was, 
I now believe, a roundabout message from him.” 

“Now, Olive,” said Mrs. Easterfield, “it would be a 
great deal better for you to stop all this imagining 
until you hear from Mr. Lancaster, if you don’t see 
him. Perhaps the poor young man has sprained his 
155 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


ankle, or was prevented in some ordinary way from 
coming. But what is this nonsense about getting 
married ? ” 

“ There is no nonsense about it,” said Olive. “ I 
am going to marry, but I have not chosen any one 
yet.” 

Mrs. Easterfield uttered an exclamation of horror. 
“Choose!” she exclaimed. “What have you to do 
with choosing? I don’t think you are much like 
other girls, but I did think you had enough womanly 
qualities to make you wait until you are chosen.” 

“I intend to wait until I am chosen,” said Olive, 
“but I shall choose the person who is to choose me. 
I have always thought it absurd for a young woman 
to sit and wait and wait until some one comes and 
sees fit to propose to her. Even under ordinary cir- 
cumstances, 1 think the young woman has not a fair 
chance to get what she wants. But my case is extraor- 
dinary, and I can’t afford to wait ; and as I don’t want 
to go out into the world to look for a husband, I am 
going to take one of these young men here.” 

“Olive,” cried Mrs. Easterfield, “you don’t mean 
you are going to marry Mr. Locker?” 

“You forget,” said Olive, “that I told you I have 
not made up my mind yet. But although I have not 
come to a decision, I have a leaning toward one of 
them. The more I think of it the more I incline in 
the direction of my old love.” 

“Mr. Hemphill ! ” exclaimed Mrs. Easterfield. 
“Olive, you are crazy, or else you are joking in a 
very disagreeable manner. There could be no one 
more unfit for you than he is.” 

“I am not crazy, and I am not joking,” replied the 
156 


WHAT OLIVE DETERMINED TO DO 


girl, “and I think Rupert would suit me very well. 
You see, I think a great deal more of Rupert than I 
do of Mr. Hemphill, although the latter gentleman 
has excellent points. He is commonplace, and, above 
everything else, I want a commonplace husband. I 
want some one to soothe me, and quiet me, and to 
give me ballast. If there is anything out of the way 
to be done I want to do it myself. I am sure he is in 
love with me, for his anxious efforts to make me 
believe that the frank avowal of my early affection 
had no effect upon him proves that he was very 
much affected. I believe that he is truly in love 
with me.” 

Mrs. Easterfield’s sharp eyes had seen this, and she 
had nothing to say. 

“I believe,” continued Olive, “that a retrospect 
love will be a better foundation for conjugal happi- 
ness than any other sort of affection. One can always 
look back to it, no matter what happens, and be 
happy in the memory of it. It would be something 
distinct which could never be interfered with. You 
can’t imagine what an earnest and absorbing love I 
once had for that man ! ” 

Mrs. Easterfield sprang to her feet. “Olive Asher,” 
she cried, “I can’t listen to you if you talk in this 
way ! ” 

“Well, then,” said Olive, “if you object so much to 
Rupert— you must not forget that it would be Rupert 
that I would really marry if I became the wife of Mr. 
Hemphill— do you advise me to take Mr. Locker? 
And I will tell you this, he is not to be rudely set aside ; 
he has warm-hearted points which I did not suspect 
at first. I will tell you what he just said to me. As 
157 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


I was coming up-stairs he hurried toward me, and his 
face showed that he was very anxious to speak to me. 
So before he could utter a word I told him that he 
was too early ; that his hour had not yet arrived. 
Then that good fellow said to me that he had seen I 
was in trouble, and that he had been informed it had 
been caused by bad news from my family. He had 
made no inquiries, because he did not wish to intrude 
upon my private affairs, and all he wished to say now 
was that while my mind was disturbed and worried 
he did not intend to present his own affairs to my 
attention, even though I had fixed regular times for 
his doing so. But although he wished me to under- 
stand that I need not fear his making love to me just 
at this time, he wanted me to remember that his love 
was still burning as brightly as ever, and would be 
again offered me just as soon as he would be warranted 
in doing so.” 

“And what did you say to that? ” asked Mrs. Eas- 
terfield. 

“I felt like patting him on the head,” Olive an- 
swered, “but instead of doing that I shook his 
hand just as warmly as I could, and told him I 
should not forget his consideration and good feeling.” 

Mrs. Easterfield sighed. “You have joined him 
fast to your car,” she said, “and yet, even if there 
were no one else, he would be impossible.” 

“Why so? ” asked Olive, quickly. “ I have always 
liked him, and now I like him ever so much better. 
To be sure, he is queer ; but then he is so much queerer 
than I am that perhaps in comparison I might take 
up the part of commonplace partner. Besides, he has 
money enough to live on. He told me that when he 
158 


WHAT OLIVE DETERMINED TO DO 


first addressed me. He said lie would never ask any 
woman to live on pickled verse feet, and he has also 
told me something of his family, which must be a 
good one.” 

“Olive,” said Mrs. Easterfield, “I don’t believe at 
all in the necessity or the sense in your precipitating 
plans of marrying. It is all airy talk, anyway. You 
can’t ask a man to step up and marry you in order 
that you may sit down and write a letter to your 
father. But if you are thinking of marrying, or 
rather of preparing to marry at some suitable time, 
why, in the name of everything that is reasonable, 
don’t you take Mr. Lancaster? He is as far above 
the other young men you have met here as the 
mountains are above the plains ; he belongs to another 
class altogether. He is a thoroughly fine young man, 
and has a most honorable profession with good pros- 
pects, and I know he loves you. You need not ask 
me how I know it— it is always easy for a woman to 
find out things like that. How, here is a prospective 
husband for you whose cause I should advocate. In 
fact, I should be delighted to see you married to 
him. He possesses every quality which would make 
you a good husband.” 

Olive smiled. “You seem to know a great deal 
about him,” said she, “and I assure you that so far as 
he himself is concerned, I have no objections to him, 
except that I think he might have had the courage to 
come and tell me the truth this morning, whatever 
it is.” 

“Perhaps he has not found out the truth yet,” 
quickly suggested Mrs. Easterfield. 

Olive fixed her eyes upon her companion and for a 
159 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 

few moments reflected, but presently she shook her 
head. 

“No, that cannot be,” she answered. “He would 
have let me know he had been obliged to wait. Oh, 
no j it is all settled, and we can drop that subject. 
But as for Mr. Lancaster, his connections would make 
any thought of him impossible. He, and his father, 
too, are both close friends of my uncle, and he would 
be a constant communication between me and that 
woman unless there should be a quarrel, which I don’t 
wish to cause. No, I want to leave everything of that 
sort as far behind me as it used to be in front of me, 
and as Professor Lancaster is mixed up with it I could 
not think of having anything to do with him.” 

Mrs. Easterfield was silent. She was trying to 
make up her mind whether this girl were talking 
sense or nonsense. What she said seemed to be 
extremely nonsensical, but as she said it, it was diffi- 
cult to believe that she did not consider it to be en- 
tirely rational. 

“Well,” said Olive, “you have objected to two of 
my candidates, and I positively decline the one you 
offer, so we have left only the diplomat. He has pro- 
posed, and he has not yet received a definite answer. 
You have told me yourself that he belongs to an aris- 
tocratic family in Austria, and I am sure that would 
be a grand match. We have talked together a great 
deal, and he seems to like the things I like. I should 
see plenty of court life and high society, for he will 
soon be transferred from this legation, and if I take 
him I shall go to some foreign capital. He is very 
sharp and ambitious, and I have no doubt that some 
day he will be looked upon as a distinguished 
160 


WHAT OLIVE DETERMINED TO DO 


foreigner. Now, as it is the ambition of many 
American girls to marry distinguished foreigners, this 
alliance is certainly worthy of due consideration.” 

“ Stuff!” said Mrs. Easterfield. 

Olive was not annoyed, and replied very quietly : 
“It is not stuff. You must know young women who 
have married foreigners and who did not do anything 
like so well as if they had married rising diplomats.” 

Mrs. Blynn now knocked at the door on urgent 
household business. 

“I shall want to see you again about all this, 
Olive,” said Mrs. Easterfield as they parted. 

“Of course,” replied the girl ; “whenever you want 
to.” 

“Mrs. Blynn,” said the lady of the house, “be- 
fore you mention what you have come to talk about, 
please tell one of the men to put a horse to a buggy 
and come to the house. I want to send a message by 
him.” 

The letter which was speedily on its way to Mr. 
Richard Lancaster was a very brief one. It simply 
asked the young gentleman to come to Broadstone, 
with bad news or good news, or without any news at 
all. It was absolutely necessary that the writer should 
see him, and in order that there might be no delay she 
sent a conveyance for him. Moreover, she added, it 
would give her great pleasure if Mr. Lancaster would 
come prepared to spend a couple of days at her house. 
She felt sure good Captain Asher would spare him for 
that short time. She believed that at this moment 
more gentlemen were needed at Broadstone, and al- 
though she did not go on to say that she thought Dick 
was not having a fair chance at this very important 
161 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


crisis, that is what she expected the young man to un- 
derstand. 

Just before luncheon, at the time when Claude 
Locker might have been urging his suit had he been 
less kind-hearted and generous, Olive found an oppor- 
tunity to say a few words to Mrs. Easterfield. 

“ A capital idea has come into my head,’ 7 she said. 
“What do you think of holding a competitive exami- 
nation among these young men? ” 

“More stuff and more nonsense ! ” ejaculated Mrs. 
Easterfield. “I never knew any one to trifle with se- 
rious subjects as you are trifling with your future.” 

“I am not trifling,” said Olive. “Of course, I 
don’t mean that I should hold an examination, but 
that you should. You know that parents— foreign 
parents, I mean— make all sorts of examinations of the 
qualifications and merits of candidates for the hands of 
their daughters, and I should be very grateful if you 
would be at least that much of a mother to me.” 

“No examination would be needed,” said the other, 
quickly ; “I should decide upon Mr. Lancaster with- 
out the necessity of any questions or deliberations.” 

“But he is not a candidate,” said Olive ; “he has 
been ruled out. However,” she added with a little 
laugh, “nothing can be done just now, for they have 
not all entered themselves in the competition $ Mr. 
Hemphill has not proposed yet.” 

At that instant the rest of the family joined them 
on their way to luncheon. 

The meal was scarcely over when Olive disappeared 
up-stairs, but soon came down attired in a blue sailor 
suit, which she had not before worn at Broadstone, and 
although the ladies of that house had been astonished 
162 


WHAT OLIVE DETERMINED TO DO 


at the number of costumes this navy girl carried in 
her unostentatious baggage, this was a new surprise 
to them. 

“Mr. Hemphill and I are going boating,” said 
Olive to Mrs. Easterfield. 

“Olive ! ” exclaimed the other. 

“What is there astonishing about it?” asked the 
girl. “I have been out boating with Mr. Locker, and 
it did not amaze you. You need not be afraid ; Mr. 
Hemphill says he has had a good deal of practice in 
rowing, and if he does not understand the manage- 
ment of a boat, I am sure I do. It is only for an hour, 
and we shall be ready for anything that the rest of 
you are going to do this afternoon.” 

With this, away she went, skipping over the rocks 
and grass, down to the river’s edge, followed by Mr. 
Hemphill, who could scarcely believe he was in a 
world of common people and common things, while 
he, in turn, was followed by the mental anathemas of 
a poet and a diplomat. 


163 


CHAPTER XIX 


THE CAPTAIN AND DICK LANCASTER DESERT 
THE TOLL-GATE 

When Captain Asher, in an angry mood, left his 
young friend and guest and went out into his barn- 
yard and his fields in order to quiet his soul by the 
consideration of agricultural subjects, he met with but 
little success. He looked at his pigs, but he did not 
notice their plump condition ; he glanced at his two 
cows cropping the grass in the little meadow, but it 
did not impress him that they also were in fine condi- 
tion ; nor did he care whether the pasture were good 
or not. He looked at this, and he looked at that, and 
then he folded his arms and looked at the distant 
mountains. Suddenly he turned on his heel, walked 
straight to the stable, harnessed his mare to the buggy, 
and, without saying a word to anybody, drove out of 
the gate and on to Glenford. 

Dick Lancaster, who was in the arbor, looked in 
amazement after the captain’s departing buggy, and 
old Jane, with tears in her eyes, came out and spoke 
to him. 

“Isn’t this dreadful?” she said to him. “Supper 
with that woman, and there all night, and back again 
as soon as he can get off this mornin’ ! ” 

“Perhaps he is not going to her house,” Dick sug- 
164 


THE CAPTAIN AND DICK DESERT 


gested. “He may have business in town which he 
forgot yesterday.” 

“If he’d had it he’d forgot it,” replied the old 
woman. “But he hadn’t none. He’s gone to Maria 
Port’s, and he may bring her back with him, married 
tight and fast, for all you or me knows. It would be 
just like his sailor fashion. When the captain’s got 
anything to do he just does it sharp and quick.” 

“I don’t believe that,” said Dick. “If he had had 
any such intention as that he certainly would have 
mentioned it to you or to me.” 

The good woman shook her head. “When an old 
man marries a girl,” she said, “she just leads him 
wherever she wants him to go, and he gives up every- 
thing to her ; and when an old man marries a tough 
and seasoned and smoked old maid like Maria Port, 
she just drives him wherever she wants him to go, 
and he hasn’t nothin’ to say about it. It looks as if 
she told him to come in this mornin’, and he’s gone. 
It may be for a weddin’, or it may be for somethin’ 
else, but whatever it is, it’ll be her way and not his 
straight on to the end of the chapter.” 

Dick had nothing to answer. He was very much 
afraid that old Jane knew what she was talking about, 
and his mind was occupied with trying to decide what 
he, individually, ought to do about it. Old Jane was 
now obliged to go to the toll-gate to attend to a travel- 
ler, but when she came back she took occasion to say 
a few more words. 

“It’s hard on me, sir,” she said, “at my age to make 
a change. I’ve lived at this house and I’ve took toll 
at that gate ever since I was a girl, long before the 
captain came here, and I’ve been with him a long 
165 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 

time. My people used to own this house, but they 
all died, and when the place was sold and the captain 
bought it, he heard about me, and he said I should 
always have charge of the old toll-gate when he wasn’t 
attendin’ to it himself, just the same as when my 
father was alive and was toll-gate-keeper and I was 
helpin’ him. But I’ve got to go now, and where I’m 
goin’ to is more’n I know. But I’d rather go to the 
county poorhouse than stay here, or anywhere else, 
with Maria Port. She’s a regular boa-constrictor, 
that woman is ! She’s twisted herself around people 
before this and squeezed the senses out of them ; and 
that’s exactly what she’s doin’ with the captain. If 
she could come here to live, and bring her old father, 
and get him to sell the house in town and put the 
money in bank, and then if she could worry her hus- 
band and her father both to death, and work things 
so she’d be a widow with plenty of money and a good 
house and as much farm-land as she wanted, and a 
toll-gate where she could set all day and take toll and 
give back lies and false witness as change, she’d be the 
happiest woman on earth.” 

It had been long since old Jane had said as much 
at any one time to any one person, but her mind was 
stirred. Her life was about to change, and the future 
was very black to her. 

When dinner was ready the captain had not yet 
returned, and Dick ate his meal by himself. He was 
now beginning to feel used to this sort of thing. He 
had scarcely finished and gone down to the. garden 
gate to look once more over the road toward Glen- 
ford, when the man in the buggy arrived, and he 
received Mrs. Easterfield’s letter. 


166 


THE CAPTAIN AND DICK DESERT 


He lost no moments in making up his mind. He 
would go to Broadstone, of course, and he did not 
think it at all necessary to stand on ceremony with 
the captain. The latter had gone off and left him 
without making any statement whatever, but he 
would do better, and he wrote a note explaining the 
state of affairs. As he was leaving, old Jane came to 
bid him good-by. 

“I don’t know,” said she, “that you will find me 
here when you come back. The fact of it is, I don’t 
know nothin’. But one thing’s certain : if she’s here, 
I ain’t ; and if she’s too high and mighty to take toll 
in her honeymoon, the captain’ll have to do it him- 
self, or let ’em pass through free.” 

Mrs. Easterfield was on the lawn when Lancaster 
arrived, and in answer to the involuntary glance with 
which Dick’s eyes swept the surrounding space, even 
while he was shaking hands with her, she said : “No, 
she is not here. She has gone boating, and so you 
must come and tell me everything, and then we can 
decide what is best to tell her.” 

For an instant Dick’s soul demurred. If he told 
Olive anything he would tell her all he knew and 
exactly what had happened. But he would not lose 
faith in this noble woman who was going to help him 
with Olive if She could. So they sat down, side by 
side, and he told her everything he knew about Cap- 
tain Asher and Miss Port. 

“It does look very much as if he were going to 
marry the woman,” said Mrs. Easterfield. Then she 
sat silent and looked upon the ground, a frown upon 
her face. 

Dick was also silent, and his countenance was 
167 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


clouded. “Poor Olive,” he thought, “it is hard that 
this new trouble should come upon her just at this 
time.” 

But Mrs. Easterfield said in her heart : “Poor fellow, 
how little you know what has come upon you ! The 
woman who has turned her uncle from Olive has 
turned Olive from you.” 

“Well,” said the lady at length, “do you think it is 
worth while to say anything to her about it? She 
has already surmised the state of affairs, and, so far as 
I can see, you have nothing of importance to tell her.” 

“Perhaps not,” said Dick ; “but as she sent me on a 
mission, I want to make known to her the result of it, 
so far as there has been any result. It will be very 
unpleasant, of course,— it will be even painful,— but I 
wish to do it all the same.” 

“That is to say,” said Mrs. Easterfield, with a smile 
that was not very cheerful, “you want to be with her, 
to look at her and to speak to her, no matter how 
much it may pain her or you to do it.” 

“That’s it,” answered Dick. 

Mrs. Easterfield sat and reflected. She very much 
liked this young man, and considering herself as his 
friend, were there not some things she ought to tell 
him ? She concluded that there were such things. 

“Mr. Lancaster,” she said, “have you noticed that 
there are other young men in love with Miss Asher ? ” 

“I know there is one,” said Dick, “for he told me 
so himself.” 

“That was Claude Locker? ” said she, with, interest. 

“And he promised,” continued Dick, “that if he 
failed he would do all he could to help me. I can- 
not say that this is really for love of me, for his 
168 


THE CAPTAIN AND DICK DESERT 


avowed object is to prevent Mr. Du Brant from get- 
ting her. We assumed that he was her lover, al- 
though I do not know that there is any real ground 
for it.” 

“ There is very good ground for it,” said she, “for 
he has already proposed to her. What do you think 
of that ? ” 

“It makes no difference to me,” said Dick, “that is, 
if he has not been accepted. What I want is to find 
myself warranted in telling Miss Asher how I feel 
toward her ; it does not matter to me how the rest of 
the world feels.” 

“Then there is another,” said Mrs. Easterfield, 
“with whom she is now on the river— Mr. Hemphill. 
He is in love with her, and as he cannot stay here 
very long, I think he will soon propose.” 

“I cannot help it,” said Dick ; “I love her, and 
the great object of my life just at present is to tell 
her so. You said you would help me, and I hope you 
will not withdraw from that promise.” 

“No, indeed,” said she, “but I do not know her as 
well as I thought I did. But here she comes now, 
and without the young man. I hope she has not 
drowned him ! ” 

Without heeding anything that had just been said 
to him, Dick kept his eyes fixed upon the sparkling 
girl who now approached them. Every step she made 
was another link in his chain ; Mrs. Easterfield glanced 
at him and knew this. She pitied him for what he 
had to tell her now, and more for what he might have 
to hear from her at another time. But Olive saved 
Dick from any present ordeal. She stepped up to 
him and offered him her hand. 

169 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


“I do not wonder, Mr. Lancaster / 7 she said, “that 
yon did not want to come back and tell me your dole- 
ful story, but as I know what it is, we need not say 
anything about it now, except that I am ever so much 
obliged to you for all your kindness to me. And now 
I am going to ask another favor. Won’t you let me 
speak to Mrs. Easterfield a few moments f 77 

As soon as they were seated, with the door shut, 
Olive began. 

“Well , 77 said she, “he has proposed . 77 

“Mr. Hemphill ! 77 exclaimed Mrs. Easterfield. 

“Kupert , 77 Olive answered ; “yes, it is truly Eupert 
who proposed to me . 77 

“I declare , 77 cried Mrs. Easterfield, “you come to 
me and tell me this as if it were a piece of glad news. 
Yesterday, and even this morning, you were plunged 
in grief, and now your eyes shine as if you were posi- 
tively happy . 77 

“I have told you my aim and object in life , 77 said 
the girl. “I am trying to do something, and to do it 
soon, and everything is going on smoothly. And as 
to being happy, I tell you, Mrs. Easterfield, there is 
no woman alive who could help being made happy by 
such a declaration as I have just received. Ho matter 
what answer she gave him, she would be bound to be 
happy . 77 

“Most other women would not have let him make 
it , 77 said Mrs. Easterfield a little severely. 

“There is something in that , 77 said Olive, “but they 
would not have the object in life I have. X may be 
unduly exalted, but you would not wonder at it if you 
had seen him and heard him. Mrs. Easterfield, that 
man loves me exactly as I used to love him, and he 
170 


THE CAPTAIN AND DICK DESERT 


has told me his love just as I would have told him 
mine if I could have carried out the wish of my heart. 
His eyes glowed, his frame shook with the ardor of 
his passion. Two or three times I had to tell him 
that if he did not trim boat we should be upset. I 
never saw anything like his impassioned vehemence. 
It reminded me of Salvini. I never was loved like 
that before.” 

“And what answer did you make to him?” asked 
Mrs. Easterfield, her voice trembling. 

“I did not make him any. It would not have been 
fair to the others or to myself to do that. I shall not 
swerve from my purpose, but I shall not be rash.” 

Mrs. Easterfield rose suddenly and stepped to the 
open window ; she could not sit still a moment longer ; 
she needed air. “Olive,” she said, “this is mad and 
wicked folly in you, and it is impertinent in him, no 
matter how much you encouraged him. I would like 
to send him back to his desk this minute. He has no 
right to come to his employer’s house and behave in 
this manner.” 

Olive did not get angry. “He is not impertinent,” 
said she. “He knows nothing in this world but that 
I once loved him, and that now he loves me. Em- 
ployer and employee are nothing to him. I don’t 
believe he would go if you told him to, even if you 
could do such a thing, which I don’t believe you 
would, for, of course, you would think of me as well 
as of him.” 

“Olive Asher,” cried Mrs. Easterfield, in a voice 
which was almost a wail, “do you mean to say that 
you are to be considered in this matter, that for a 
moment you think of marrying this man?” 

171 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


“Yes,” said Olive, “I do think of it, and the more 
I think of it the better I think of it. He is a good 
man ; you have told me that yourself, and I can feel 
that he is good. I know he loves me. There can be 
no mistake about his words and his eyes. I feel as I 
never felt toward any other man, that I might be- 
come attached to him. And in my opinion a real 
attachment is the foundation of love, and you must 
never forget that I once loved him.” The girl now 
stepped close to Mrs. Easterfield. “I am sorry to see 
those tears,” she said ; “I did not come here to make 
you unhappy.” 

“But you have made me very unhappy,” said the 
elder lady, “and I do not think I can talk any more 
about this now.” 

When Olive had gone Mrs. Easterfield hurried 
down-stairs in search of Lancaster. She did not care 
what any one might think of her unconventional 
eagerness ; she wanted to find him, and she soon suc- 
ceeded. He was sitting in the shade with a book, 
which, when she approached him, she did not believe 
he was reading. 

“Yes,” said she, as he started to his feet in evident 
concern, “I have been crying, and there is no use in 
trying to conceal it. Of course it is about Olive, but 
I cannot confide in you now, and I do not know that 
I have any right to do so, anyway. But I came here 
to beg you most earnestly not to propose to Miss 
Asher, no matter how good an opportunity you may 
have, no matter how much you want to do so, no 
matter how much hope may spring up in your heart.” 

“Do you mean,” said Dick, “that I must never speak 
to her? Am I too late? Is she lost to me ? ” 

172 


THE CAPTAIN AND DICK DESERT 


“Not at all,” said she, “you are not too late, but 
you may be too early. She is not lost to anybody, 
but if you should speak to her before I tell you to she 
will certainly be lost to you.” 


173 


CHAPTER XX 


MR. LOCKER DETERMINES TO RUSH THE ENEMY’S 
POSITION 

The party at Broadstone was not in what might be 
called a congenial condition. There were among them 
elements of unrest which prevented that assimilation 
which is necessary to social enjoyment. Even the or- 
dinarily placid Mr. Fox was dissatisfied. The trouble 
with him was— although he did not admit it— that 
he missed the company of Miss Asher. He had found 
her most agreeable and inspiriting, but now things 
had changed, and he did not seem to have any oppor- 
tunity for the lively chats of a few days before. He re- 
marked to his wife that he thought Broadstone was 
getting very dull, and he should be rather glad when 
the time came for them to leave. Mrs. Fox was not 
of his opinion ; she enjoyed the state of affairs more 
than she had done when her husband had been better 
pleased. There was something going on which she 
did not understand, and she wanted to find out what 
it was. It concerned Miss Asher and one of the young 
men, but which one she could not decide. In any case 
it troubled Mrs. Easterfield, and that was inter- 
esting. 

Claude Locker seemed to be a changed man ; he no 
longer made jokes or performed absurdities. He had 
174 


MR. LOCKER DETERMINES 


become wonderfully vigilant, and seemed to be one 
who continually bided his time. He bided it so much 
that he was of very little use as a member of the 
social circle. 

Mr. Du Brant was also biding his time, but he did 
not make the fact evident. He was very vigilant also, 
but was very quiet, and kept himself in the back- 
ground. He had seen Olive and Mr. Hemphill go out 
in the boat, but he determined totally to ignore that 
interesting occurrence. The moment he had an oppor- 
tunity he would speak to Olive again, and the exist- 
ence of other people did not concern him. 

Mr. Hemphill was walking by the river ; Olive had 
not allowed him to come to the house with her, for 
his face was so radiant with the ecstasy of not having 
been discarded by her that she did not wish him to be 
seen. From her window Mrs. Easterfield saw this 
young man on his return from his promenade, and she 
knew it would not be many minutes before he would 
reach the house. She also saw the diplomat, who was 
glaring across the grounds at some one, probably Mr. 
Locker, who, not unlikely, was glaring back at him. 
She had come up-stairs to do some writing, but now 
she put down her pen and called to her secretary. 

“Miss Raleigh,” said she, “it has been a good while 
Since you have done anything for me.” 

“Indeed it has,” said the other, with a sigh. 

“But I want you to do something this minute. It 
is strictly confidential business. I want you to go 
down on the lawn, or any other place where Miss 
Asher may be, and make yourself mal a propos. I am 
busy now, but I will relieve you before very long. 
Can you do that ? Do you understand ? ” 

175 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


The aspect of the secretary underwent a total 
change. From a dull, heavy -eyed woman she became 
an intent, an eager emissary. Her hands trembled 
with the intensity of her desire to meddle with the 
affairs of others. 

“Of course I understand,” she exclaimed, “and I 
can do it. You mean you don’t want any of those 
young men to get a chance to speak to Miss Asher. 
Do you include Mr. Lancaster? Or shall I only keep 
off the others ? ” 

“I include all of them,” said Mrs. Easterfield. 
“Don’t let any of them have a chance to speak to her 
until I can come down. And hurry ! Here is one 
coming now.” 

Hurrying down-stairs, the secretary glanced into 
the library. There she saw Mrs. Fox in one arm- 
chair, and Olive in another, both reading. In the 
hall were the two little girls, busily engaged in har- 
nessing two small chairs to a large arm-chair by means 
of a ball of pink yarn. Outside, about a hundred 
yards away, she saw Mr. Hemphill irresolutely ap- 
proaching the house. Miss Raleigh’s mind, frequently 
dormant, was very brisk and lively when she had occa- 
sion to waken it. She made a dive toward the children. 

“Dear little ones,” she cried, “don’t you want to 
come out under the trees and have the good Mr. 
Hemphill tell you a story ? I know he wants to tell 
you one, and it is about a Vitch and two pussy-cats 
and a kangaroo. Come along. He is out there wait- 
ing for us.” Down dropped the ball of yarn, and with 
exultant cries each little girl seized an outstretched 
hand of the secretary, and together they ran over the 
grass to meet the good Mr. Hemphill. 

176 


MR. LOCKER DETERMINES 


Of course he was obliged to want to tell them a 
story ; they expected it of him, and they were his em- 
ployer’s children. To be sure he had on mind some- 
thing very practical and sensible he wished to say to 
Miss Olive, which had come to him during his solitary 
walk, and which he did not believe she would object 
to hearing, although he had said so much to her quite 
recently. As soon as he should begin to speak she 
would know that this was something she ought to 
know. It was about his mother, who had an income 
of her own, and did not in the least depend upon her 
son. Miss Olive would certainly agree with him that 
it was proper for him to tell her this. 

But the little girls seized his hands and led him 
away to a bench, where, having seated him almost 
forcibly, each climbed upon a knee. The good Mr. 
Hemphill sent a furtive glare after Miss Raleigh, 
who, with that smile of gentle gratification which 
comes to one after having just done a good deed to 
another, sauntered slowly away. 

11 Don’t come back again,” cried out the older of 
the little girls. “He was put out in the last story, 
and we want this to be a long one. And remember, 
Mr. Rupert, it is to be about a witch and two pussy- 
cats—” 

“And a kangaroo,” added the other. 

At the front door the secretary met Miss Asher, 
just emerging. “Isn’t that a pretty picture?” she 
said, pointing to the group under the trees. 

Olive looked at them and smiled. “It is beauti- 
ful,” she said ; “a regular family composition. I 
wish I had a kodak.” 

“Oh, that would never do ! ” exclaimed Miss 
177 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


Raleigh. “He is just as sensitive as he can be, and, 
of course, it’s natural. And the dear little things are 
so glad to get him to themselves so that they can 
have one of the long, long stories they like so much. 
May I ask what that is you are working, Miss 
Asher ? ” 

“It is going to be what they call a nucleus,” said 
Olive, showing a little piece of fancy work. “You 
first crochet this, and then its ultimate character de- 
pends on what you may put around it. It may be a 
shawl, or a table-cover, or even an apron, if you like 
crocheted aprons. I learned the stitch last winter. 
Would you like me to show it to you? ” 

“I should like it above all things,” said the secre- 
tary. And together they walked to a rustic bench 
quite away from the story-telling group. “So far I 
have done nothing but nucleuses,” said Olive, as they 
sat down. “I put them away when they are finished, 
and then I suppose sometime I shall take up one 
and make it into something.” 

“Like those pastry shells,” said Miss Raleigh, 
“which can be laid away and which you can fill up 
with preserves or jam whenever you want a pie. 
How many of these have you, Miss Asher ? ” 

“When this is finished there will be four,” said 
Olive. 

At some distance, and near the garden, Dick Lan- 
caster, strolling eastward, encountered Claude Locker, 
strolling westward. 

“Hello ! ” cried Locker. “I am glad to see you. 
Brought your baggage with you this time, I see. That 
means you are going to stay, of course.” 

“A couple of days,” replied Dick. 

178 


MR. LOCKER DETERMINES 


“Well, a man can do a lot in that time, and you 
may have something to do, but I am not sure. No, 
sir,” continued Locker, “I am not sure. I am on 
the point of making a demonstration in force. But 
the enemy is always presenting some new force. By 
enemy you understand me to mean that which I adore 
above all else in the world, but which must be attacked, 
and that right soon if her defences are to be carried. 
Step this way a little and look over there. Do you 
see that Raleigh woman sitting on a bench with her? 
Well, now, if I had not had such a beastly generous 
disposition I might be sitting on that bench this min- 
ute. I was deceived by a feint of the opposing forces 
this morning. I don’t mean she deceived me. I did 
it myself. Although I had the right by treaty to 
march in upon her, I myself offered to establish a 
truce in order that she might bury her dead. I did 
not know who had been killed, but it looked as if there 
were losses of some kind. But it was a false alarm. 
The dead must have turned up only missing, and she 
was as lively as a cricket at luncheon, and went out in 
a boat with that tailor’s model— sixteen dollars and 
forty-eight cents for the entire suit ready-made, or 
twenty-three dollars made to order.” 

Dick smiled a little, but his soul rebelled within 
him. He regretted that he had given his promise to 
Mrs. Easterfield. What he wanted to do that moment 
was to go over to Captain Asher’s niece and ask her to 
take a walk with him. What other man had a better 
right to speak to her than he had ? But he respected 
his word : it would be very hard to break a promise 
made to Mrs. Easterfield ; and he stood with his hands 
in his pockets, and his brows knit. 

179 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


“Now, I tell you what I am going to do,” said 
Locker. “I am going to wait a little while,— a very 
little while,— and then I shall bounce over my earth- 
works and rush her position. It is the only way to do 
it, and I shall be up and at her with cold steel. And 
now I will tell you what you must do. Just you hold 
yourself in reserve ; and, if I am routed, you charge. 
You’d better do it if you know what’s good for you, 
for that Austrian’s over there pulverizing his teeth 
and swearing in French because that Kaleigh woman 
doesn’t get up and go. Now, I won’t keep you any 
longer, but don’t go far away. I can’t talk any more, 
for I’ve got to have every eye fixed upon the point of 
attack.” 

Dick looked at the animated face of his companion, 
and began to ask himself if the moment had not ar- 
rived when even a promise made to Mrs. Easterfield 
might be disregarded. Should he consent to allow his 
fate to depend upon the fortunes of Mr. Locker ? He 
scorned the notion. It would be impossible for the 
girl who had talked so sweetly, so earnestly, so straight 
from her heart, when he had met her on the shunpike, 
to marry such a mountebank as this fellow, generous as 
he might be with that which could never belong to 
him. As to the diplomat, he did not condescend to 
bestow a thought upon such a black-pointed little 
foreigner. 


180 


CHAPTER XXI 


MISS RALEIGH ENJOYS A RARE PRIVILEGE 

Miss Raleigh was very attentive to the instruc- 
tions given her by Miss Asher, and while she ex- 
hibited the fashion of the new stitch Olive reflected. 

“I wonder,” she said to herself, “if Mrs. Easter- 
field has done this. It looks very much like it, and 
if she did I am truly obliged to her. There is noth- 
ing I want so much now as a rest, and I didn’t want 
to stay in the house, either. Miss Raleigh,” said she, 
suddenly changing the subject, “were you ever in 
love ? ” 

The secretary started. “What do you mean by 
that ? ” she asked. 

“I don’t mean anything,” said Olive. “I simply 
wanted to know.” 

“It is a queer question,” said Miss Raleigh, her 
face changing to another shade of sallowness. 

“I know that,” said Olive, quickly, “but the an- 
swers to queer questions are always so much more 
interesting than those to any others. Don’t you 
think so f ” 

“Yes, they are,” said Miss Raleigh, thoughtfully, 
“but they are generally awfully hard to get. I have 
tried it myself.” 


181 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


“Then yon ought to have a fellow-feeling for me,” 
said Olive. 

“Well” said the other, looking steadfastly at her 
companion, “if you will promise to keep it all to 
yourself forever, I don’t mind telling you that I was 
once in love. Would you like me to tell you who I 
was in love with ? ” 

“Yes,” said Olive, “if you are willing to tell me.” 

“Oh, I am perfectly willing,” said the secretary. 
“It was Mr. Hemphill.” 

Olive turned suddenly, and looked at her in amaze- 
ment. 

“Yes, it was Mr. Hemphill over there,” said the 
other, speaking very tranquilly, as if the subject were 
of no importance. “You see, I have been living 
with the Easterfields for a long time, and in the win- 
ter we see a good deal of Mr. Hemphill. He has to 
come to the house on business, and often takes meals. 
He is Mr. Easterfield’s private and confidential secre- 
tary. And, somehow or other, seeing him so often, 
and sometimes being his partner at cards when two 
were needed to make up a game, I forgot that I was 
older than he, and I actually fell in love with him. 
You see, he has a good heart, Miss Asher ; anybody 
could tell that from his way with children ; and I 
have noticed that bachelors are often nicer with 
children than fathers are.” 

“And he?” asked Olive. 

Miss Raleigh laughed a little laugh. “Oh, I did 
all the loving,” she answered. “He never recipro- 
cated the least little bit, and I often wondered why I 
adored him as much as I did. He was handsome, 
and he was good, and he had excellent taste ; he was 
182 


MISS RALEIGH’S PRIVILEGE 


thoroughly trustworthy in his relations to the family, 
and I believe he would be equally so in all relations 
of life. But all that did not account for my uncon- 
querable ardor, which was caused by a certain some- 
thing which you know, Miss Asher, we can’t ex- 
plain.” 

Olive tried hard not to allow any emotion to show 
itself in her face, but she did not altogether succeed. 
“And you still—” said she. 

“No, I don’t,” interrupted Miss Raleigh. “I love 
him no longer. There came a time when all my fire 
froze. I discovered that there was—” 

“I say, Miss Asher—” It was the voice of Claude 
Locker. 

Olive looked around at him. “Well? ” said she. 

“Perhaps you have not noticed,” said he, “that the 
tennis ground is now in the shade, and if you don’t 
mind walking that way—” He said a good deal more 
which Miss Raleigh did not believe, understanding the 
young man thoroughly, and which Olive did not hear. 
Her mind was very busy with what she had just heard, 
which made a great impression on her. She did not 
know whether she was affronted, or hurt, or merely 
startled. 

Here was a man who loved her, a man she had 
loved, and one about whom she had been questioning 
herself as to the possibility of her loving him again. 
And here was a woman, a dyspeptic, unwholesome 
spinster, who had just said she had loved him. If 
Miss Raleigh had loved this man, how could she, Olive, 
love him ? There was something repugnant about it 
which she did not attempt to understand. It went 
beyond reason. She felt it to be an actual relief to 
183 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


look up at Claude Locker, and to listen to what he 
was saying. 

“You mean/ 7 said she, presently, “that you would 
like Miss Raleigh and me to come with you and play 
tennis.” 

“I did not know Miss Raleigh played,” he an- 
swered, “but I thought perhaps—” 

“Oh, no,” said Olive. “I would not think of such 
a thing. In fact, Miss Raleigh and I are engaged. 
We are very busy about some important work.” 

Mr. Locker gazed at the crocheted nucleus with an 
air of the loftiest disdain. “Of course, of course,” 
said he ; “but you really oblige me, Miss Asher, to 
speak very plainly and frankly and to say that I really 
do not care about playing tennis, but that I want to 
speak to you on a most important subject, which, for 
reasons that I will explain, must be spoken of immedi- 
ately. So, if Miss Raleigh will be kind enough to 
postpone the little matter you have on hand—” 

Olive smiled and shook her head. “No, indeed, 
sir,” she said ; “I would not hurt a lady’s feelings in 
that way, and, moreover, I would not allow her to hurt 
her own feelings. It would hurt your feelings, Miss 
Raleigh, wouldn’t it, to be sent away like a child who 
is not wanted ? ” 

“Yes,” said the secretary, “I think it would.” 

Mr. Locker listened in amazement. He had not 
thought the mature maiden had the nerve to say that. 

“Then again,” said Olive, “this isn’t the time for 
you to talk business with me, and you should not dis- 
turb me at this hour.” 

“Oh,” said Locker, bringing down the forefinger 
of his right hand upon the palm of his left, “that is 
184 


MISS RALEIGH’S PRIVILEGE 


a point, a very essential point. I voluntarily surren- 
dered the period of discourse which you assigned to 
me, for a reason which I now believe did not exist, 
and this is only an assertion of the rights vested in 
me by you.” 

Miss Raleigh listened very attentively to these re- 
marks, but could not imagine what they meant. 

Olive looked at him graciously. “Yes,” she said, 
“you are very generous, but your period for discourse, 
as you call it, will have to be postponed.” 

“But it can’t be postponed,” he answered. “If 
I could see you alone I could soon explain that to you. 
There are certain reasons why I must speak now.” 

“I can’t help it,” said Olive. “I am not going to 
leave Miss Raleigh, and I am sure she does not want 
to leave me, so if you are obliged to speak you must 
speak before her.” 

Mr. Locker gazed from one to the other of the two 
ladies who sat before him ; each of them wore a gentle 
but determined expression. He addressed the secre- 
tary. 

“Miss Raleigh,” said he, “if you understood the 
reason for my strong desire to speak in private with 
Miss Asher, perhaps you would respect it and give me 
the opportunity I ask for. I am here to make a propo- 
sition of marriage to this lady, and it is absolutely 
necessary that I make it without loss of time. Do you 
desire me to make it in your presence ? ” 

“I should like it very much,” said Miss Raleigh. 

Mr. Locker gave her a look of despair, and turned 
to Olive. “Would you permit that?” he asked. 

“If it is absolutely necessary,” she said, “I suppose 
I shall have to permit it.” 

185 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


Mr. Locker had the soul of a lion in his somewhat 
circumscribed body, and he was not to be recklessly 
dared to action. 

“Very well, then,” said he ; “I shall proceed as if 
we were alone, and I hope, Miss Raleigh, you will at 
least see fit to consider yourself in a strictly confiden- 
tial position.” 

“Indeed I shall,” she replied j “not one word shall 
ever—” 

“I hope not,” interrupted Claude, “and I will add 
that if I should ever be accidentally present when a 
gentleman is about to propose to you, Miss Raleigh, 
I shall heap coals of fire upon your head by instanta- 
neously withdrawing.” 

The secretary was about to thank him, but Olive 
interrupted. “Now, Claude Locker,” said she, “what 
can you possibly have to say to me that you have not 
said before % ” 

“A good deal, Miss Asher, a good deal, although I 
don’t wonder you suppose that no man could say more 
to you of his undying affection than I have already 
said. But, since I last spoke on the subject, I have 
been greatly impressed by the fact that I have not said 
enough about myself ; that I have not made you under- 
stand me as I really am. I know very well that most 
people, and I suppose that at some time you have been 
among them, look upon me as a very frivolous young 
man, and not one to whom the right sort of a girl should 
give herself in marriage. But that is a mistake. I am 
as much to be depended upon as anybody you ever met. 
My apparently whimsical aspect is merely the outside 
—my shell, marked off in queer designs with varie- 
gated colors $ but within that shell I am as domestic, as 
186 


MISS RALEIGH’S PRIVILEGE 


sober, and as surely to be found where I am expected 
to be as any turtle. This may seem a queer figure, 
but it strikes me as a very good one. When I am 
wanted I am there. You can always depend upon 
me .’ 7 

There was not a smile upon the face of either 
woman as he spoke. They were listening earnestly 
and with the deepest interest. Miss Raleigh’s eyes 
sparkled, and Olive seemed to be most seriously con- 
sidering this new aspect in which Mr. Locker was en- 
deavoring to place himself. 

“Perhaps you may think,” Claude continued, “that 
you would not desire turtle-like qualities in a hus- 
band, you who are so bright, so bounding, so much 
like a hare ; but I assure you, that is just the compan- 
ion who would suit you. All day you might skip 
among the flowers, and in the fields, and wherever 
you were, you would always know where I was— 
making a steady bee-line for home ; and you would 
know that I would be there to welcome you when 
you arrived.” 

“That is very pretty!” said Miss Raleigh. And 
then she quickly added : “Excuse me for making a 
remark.” 

“Now, Miss Asher,” continued Locker, “I have 
tried, very imperfectly, I know, to make you see me 
as I really am, and I do hope you can put an end to 
this suspense which is keeping me in a nervous 
tingle. I cannot sleep at night, and all day I am 
thinking what you will say when you do decide. 
You need not be afraid to speak out before Miss 
Raleigh. She is in with us now, and she can’t get 
out. I would not press you for an answer at this 
187 


THE CAPTAINS TOLL-GATE 


moment, but there are reasons which I cannot say 
anything about without meddling with other people’s 
business. But my business with you is the happiness 
of my life, and I feel that I cannot longer endure 
having it momentarily jeopardized.” 

At the conclusion of this speech a faint color actu- 
ally stole into Miss Raleigh’s face, and she clasped 
her thin hands in the intensity of her approval. 

“Mr. Locker,” said Olive, speaking very pleasantly, 
“if you had come to me to-day and had asked me for 
a decision based upon what you had already said to 
me, I think I might have settled the matter. But 
after what you have just told me, I cannot answer 
you now. You give me things to think about, and I 
must wait.” 

“Heavens ! ” exclaimed Mr. Locker, clasping his 
hands. “Am I not yet to know whether I am to 
rise into paradise, or to sink into the infernal 
regions ! ” 

Olive smiled. “Don’t do either, Mr. Locker,” she 
said. “This earth is a very pleasant place. Stay 
where you are.” 

He folded his arms and gazed at her. “It is a 
pleasant place,” said he, “and I am mighty glad I 
got in my few remarks before you made your deci- 
sion. I leave my love with you on approbation, and 
you may be sure I shall come to-morrow before 
luncheon to hear what you say about it.” 

“I shall expect you,” said Olive ; and as she spoke 
her eyes were full of kind consideration. 

“Now, that’s genuine,” said Miss Raleigh, when 
Locker had departed. “If he had not felt every 
word he said he could not have said it before me.” 

188 


MISS RALEIGH’S PRIVILEGE 


“No doubt you are right/’ said Olive. “He is 
very brave. And now you see this new line, which 
begins an entirely different kind of stitch ! ” 

In the middle distance Mr. Du Brant still strolled 
backward and forward, pulverizing his teeth and 
swearing in French. He seldom removed his eyes 
from Miss Asher, but still she sat on that bench and 
crocheted, and talked, and talked, and crocheted, with 
that everlasting Miss Raleigh ! He had seen Locker 
with her, and he had seen him go ; and now he hoped 
that the woman would soon depart. Then it would 
be his chance. 

The young Austrian had become most eager to make 
Olive his wife. He earnestly loved her 5 and, beyond 
that, he had come to see that a marriage with her 
would be most advantageous to his prospects. This 
beautiful and brilliant American girl, familiar with 
foreign life and foreign countries, would give him a 
position in diplomatic society which would be most 
desirable. She might not bring him much money; 
although he believed that all American girls had some 
money ; but she would bring him favor, distinction, 
and, most likely, advancement. With such a wife he 
would be a welcome envoy at any court. And, be- 
sides, he loved her. But, alas, Miss Raleigh would 
not go away. 

About half an hour after Claude Locker left Olive 
he encountered Dick Lancaster. 

“Well,” said he, “I charged. I was not routed ; I 
can’t say that I was even repulsed. But I was obliged 
to withdraw my forces. I shall go into camp, and 
renew the attack to-morrow. So, my friend, you will 
have to wait. I wish I could say that there is no use 
189 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


of your waiting, but I am a truthful person and can’t 
do that.” 

Lancaster was not pleased. “It seems to me,” he 
said, “that you trifle with the most important affairs 
of life.” 

“Trifle !” exclaimed Locker. “Would you call it 
trifling if I fail, and then, to save her from a worse 
fate, were to back you up with all my heart and soul ? ” 

Dick could not help smiling. “By a worse fate,” 
he said, “I suppose you mean—” 

“The Austrian,” interrupted Locker. “Mrs. Easter- 
field has told me something about him. He may have 
a title some day, and he is about as dangerous as they 
make them. Instead of accusing me of trifling, you 
ought to go down on your knees and thank me for 
still standing between him and her.” 

“That is a duty I would like to perform myself,” 
said Dick. 

“Perhaps you may have a chance,” sighed Locker, 
“but I most earnestly hope not. Look over there at 
that he-nurse. Those children have made him take 
them walking, and he is just coming back to the 
house.” 


190 


CHAPTER XXII 

THE CONFLICTING SERENADES 

Mrs. Easterfield worked steadily at her letter, 
feeling confident all the time that her secretary was 
attending conscientiously to the task which had been 
assigned to her, and which could not fail to be a most 
congenial one. One of the greatest joys of Miss 
Raleigh’s life was to interfere in other people’s busi- 
ness ; and to do it under approval and with the feel- 
ing that it was her duty was a rare joy. 

The letter was to her husband, and Mrs. Easterfield 
was writing it because she was greatly troubled, and 
even frightened. In the indulgence of a good-hu- 
mored and romantic curiosity to know whether or not 
a grown-up young woman would return to a senti- 
mental attachment of her girlhood, she had brought 
her husband’s secretary to the house with conse- 
quences which were appalling. If this navy girl she 
had on hand had been a mere flirt, Mrs. Easterfield, 
an experienced woman of society, might not have 
been very much troubled, but Olive seemed to her to 
be much more than a flirt ; she would trifle until she 
made up her mind, but when she should come to a 
decision Mrs. Easterfield believed she would act fairly 
and squarely. She wanted to marry ; and, in her 
191 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


heart, Mrs. Easterfield commended her. Without a 
mother, now more than ever without a father, her 
only near relative about to marry a woman who was 
certainly a most undesirable connection, Olive was 
surely right in wishing to settle in life. And if, 
piqued and affronted by her father’s intended mar- 
riage, she wished immediately to declare her inde- 
pendence, the girl could not be blamed. And, from 
what she had said of Mr. Hemphill, Mrs. Easterfield 
could not in her own mind dissent. He was a good 
young man; he had an excellent position; he fer- 
vently loved Olive ; she had loved him, and might do 
it again. What was there to which she could object? 
Only this : it angered and frightened her to think of 
Olive Asher throwing herself away upon Rupert 
Hemphill. So she wrote a very strong letter to her 
husband, representing to him that the danger was 
very great and imminent, and that he was needed at 
Broadstone just as soon as he could get there. Busi- 
ness could be set aside ; his wife’s happiness was at 
stake ; for if this unfortunate match should be made, 
it would be her doing, and it would cloud her 
whole life. Of herself she did not know what to do, 
and if she had known, she could not have done it. 
But if he came he would not only know everything, 
but could do anything. This indicated her general 
opinion of Mr. Tom Easterfield. 

“Now,” said she to herself, as she fixed an imme- 
diate-delivery stamp upon the letter, “that ought to 
bring him here before lunch to-morrow.” 

When Olive saw fit to go to her room Miss Raleigh 
felt relieved from guard, and went to Mrs. Easterfield 
to report. She told that lady everything that had 
192 


THE CONFLICTING SERENADES 


happened, even including her own emotions at various 
points of the interview. The amazed Mrs. Easterfield 
listened with the greatest interest. 

“I knew Claude Locker was capable of almost any 
wild proceeding,” she said, “but I did not think he 
would do that ! ” 

“There is one thing I forgot,” said the secretary, 
“and that is that I promised Mr. Locker not to men- 
tion a word of what happened.” 

“I am very glad,” replied Mrs. Easterfield, “that 
you remembered that promise after you told me 
everything, and not before. You have done admir- 
ably so far.” 

“And if I have any other opportunities of inter- 
polating myself, so to speak,” said Miss Ealeigh, 
“shall I embrace them ? ” 

Mrs. Easterfield laughed. “I don’t want you to be 
too obviously zealous,” she answered. “I think for 
the present we may relax our efforts to relieve Miss 
Asher of annoyance.” Mrs. Easterfield believed this. 
She had faith in Olive ,* and if that young woman 
had promised to give Claude Locker another hearing 
the next day she did not believe that the girl would 
give anybody else a positive answer before that time. 

Miss Ealeigh went away not altogether satisfied. 
She did not believe in relaxed vigilance $ for one 
thing, it was not interesting. 

Olive was surprised when she found that Mr. Lan- 
caster was to stay to dinner, and afterwards, when she 
was informed that he had been invited to spend a few 
days, she reflected. It looked like some sort of a 
plan, and what did Mrs. Easterfield mean by it? She 
knew the lady of the house had a very good opinion 
193 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


of the young professor, and that might explain the 
invitation at this particular moment, but still it did 
look like a plan, and as Olive had no sympathy with 
plans of this sort she determined not to trouble her 
head about it. And to show her non-concern, she 
was very gracious to Mr. Lancaster, and received 
her reward in an extremely interesting conversa- 
tion. 

Still Olive reflected, and was not in her usual lively 
spirits. Mr. Fox said to Mrs. Fox that it was an 
abominable shame to allow a crowd of incongruous 
young men to swarm in upon a country-house party, 
and interfere seriously with the pleasures of intelli- 
gent and self-respecting people. 

That night, after Mrs. Easterfield had gone to bed, 
and before she slept, she heard something which in- 
stantly excited her attention ; it was the sound of a 
guitar, and it came from the lawn in front of the 
house. Jumping up, and throwing a dressing-gown 
about her, she cautiously approached the open win- 
dow. But the night was dark, and she could see 
nothing. Pushing an arm-chair to one side of the 
window, she seated herself, and listened. Words now 
began to mingle with the music, and these words 
were French. Now she understood everything per- 
fectly. Mr. Du Brant was a musician, and had 
helped himself to the guitar in the library. 

From the position in which she sat Mrs. Easter- 
field could look upon a second-story window in a pro- 
jecting wing of the house, and upon this window, 
which belonged to Olive’s room, and which was 
barely perceptible in the gloom, she now fixed her 
eyes. The song and the thrumming went on, but no 
194 


THE CONFLICTING SERENADES 


signs of life could be seen in the black square of that 
open window. 

Mrs. Easterfield was not a bad French scholar, and 
she caught enough of the meaning of the words to 
understand that they belonged to a very pretty love 
song in which the flowers looked up to the sky to see 
if it were blue, because they knew if it were the fair 
one smiled, and then their tender buds might ope ; 
and, if she smiled, his heart implored that she might 
smile on him. There was a second verse, much re- 
sembling the first, except that the flowers feared that 
clouds might sweep the sky, and they lamented ac- 
cordingly. 

Now, Mrs. Easterfield imagined that she saw some- 
thing white in the depths of the darkness of Olive’s 
room, but it did not come to the front, and she was 
very uncertain about it. Suddenly, however, some- 
thing happened about which she could not be in the 
least uncertain. Above Olive’s room was a chamber 
appropriated to the use of bachelor visitors, and from 
the window of this room now burst upon the night a 
wild, unearthly chant. It was a song with words but 
without music, and the voice in which it was shot out 
into the darkness was harsh, was shrill, was insolently 
blatant. And thus the clamorous singer sang : 

“ My angel maid— ahoy ! 

If aught should you annoy, 

By act or sound, 

From sky or ground, 

I then pray thee 
To call on me, 

My angel maid— ahoy, 

My^ange— my ange— 1 maid, 

Ahoy ! Ahoy ! Ahoy ! ’ ’ 

195 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


The music of the guitar now ceased, and no French 
words were heard. N o ditty of Latin origin, be it ever 
so melodious and fervid, could stand against such a 
wild storm of Anglo-Saxon vociferation. Every ahoy 
rang out as if sea captains were hailing each other in 
a gale. 

“What lungs he has ! ” thought Mrs. Easterfield, 
as she put her hand over her mouth so that no one 
should hear her laugh. At the open window, at which 
she still steadily gazed, she now felt sure she saw some- 
thing white which moved, but it did not come to the 
front. 

A wave of half-smothered objurgation now rolled 
up from below ; it was not to be readily caught, but 
its tone indicated rage and disappointment. But the 
guitar had ceased to sound, and the French love song 
was heard no more. A little irrepressible laugh came 
from somewhere, but who heard it besides herself Mrs. 
Easterfield could not know. Then all was still, and the 
insects of the night, and the tree-frogs, had the stage 
to themselves. 

Early in the morning Miss Raleigh presented her- 
self before Mrs. Easterfield to make a report. “There 
was a serenade last night,” she said, “not far from 
Miss Asher’s window. In fact, there were two, but 
one of them came from Mr. Locker’s room, and was 
simply awful. Mr. Du Brant was the gentleman who 
sang from the lawn, and I was very sorry when he felt 
himself obliged to stop. I do not think very much of 
him, but he certainly has a pleasant voice, and plays 
well on the guitar. I think he must have been a good 
deal cut up by being interrupted in that dreadful 
way, for he grumbled and growled, and did not go into 
196 


THE CONFLICTING SERENADES 


the house for some time. I am sure he would haye 
been very glad to fight if any one had come down.” 

“You mean,” said Mrs. Easterfield, “if Mr. Locker 
had come.” 

“Well,” said the secretary, “if Mr. Hemphill had 
appeared I have no doubt he would have answered. 
Mr. Du Brant seemed to me ready to fight any- 
body.” 

“How do you know so much about him?” asked 
Mrs. Easterfield. “And why did you think of Mr. 
Hemphill?” 

“Oh, he was looking out of his window,” said Miss 
Raleigh. “He could not see, but he could hear.” 

“I ask you again,” said Mrs. Easterfield, “how do 
you know all this ? ” 

“Oh, I had not gone to bed, and, at the first sound 
of the guitar, I slipped on a waterproof with a hood, 
and went out. Of course, I wanted to know every- 
thing that was happening.” 

“I had not the least idea you were such an ener- 
getic person,” remarked Mrs. Easterfield, “and I 
think you were entirely too rash. But how about 
Mr. Lancaster ? Do you know if he was listening ? ” 

Miss Raleigh stood silent for a moment, then she 
exclaimed : “There now, it is too bad ! I entirely 
forgot him ! I have not the slightest idea whether 
he was asleep or awake, and it would have been just 
as easy—” 

“Well, you need not regret it,” said Mrs. Easter- 
field. “I think you did quite enough, and if any- 
thing of the kind occurs again I positively forbid 
you to go out of the house.” 

“There is one thing we’ve got to look after,” said 
197 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


Miss Raleigh, without heeding the last remark j “this 
may result in bloodshed.” 

“Nonsense,” said Mrs. Easterfield; “nothing of 
that kind is to be feared from the gentlemen who 
visit Broadstone.” 

“Still,” said Miss Raleigh, “don’t you think it 
would be well for me to keep an eye on them ? ” 

“Oh, you may keep both eyes on them if you want 
to,” said Mrs. Easterfield. Then she began to talk 
about something else. But, although she dismissed the 
matter so lightly, she was very glad at heart that she 
had sent for her husband. Things were getting 
themselves into unpleasant complications, and she 
needed Tom. 

There was a certain constraint at the breakfast- 
table. Mr. Fox had heard the serenades, although 
his consort had slept soundly through the turmoil ; 
and, while carefully avoiding any reference to the 
incidents of the night, he was anxiously hoping that 
somebody would say something about them. Mrs. 
Easterfield saw that Mr. Du Brant was in a bad 
humor, and she hoped he was angry enough to 
announce his early departure. But he contented 
himself with being angry, and said nothing about 
going away. 

Mr. Hemphill was serious, and looked often in the 
direction of Olive. As for Dick Lancaster, Miss 
Raleigh, whose eye was fixed upon him whenever it 
could be spared from the exigencies of her meal, de- 
cided that if there should be a fight he would be one 
of the fighters j his brow was dark and his glance was 
sharp ; in fact, she was of the opinion that he glared. 
Claude Locker did not come to breakfast until nearly 
198 


THE CONFLICTING SERENADES 


everybody had finished. His dreams had been so 
pleasant that he had overslept himself. 

In the eyes of Mrs. Easterfield, Olive’s conduct was 
positively charming. No one could have supposed 
that during the night she had heard anything louder 
than the ripple of the river. She talked more to Mr. 
Hu Brant than to any one else, although she managed 
to draw most of the others into the conversation ; and, 
with the assistance of the hostess, who gave her most 
good-humored help, the talk never flagged, although 
it did not become of the slightest interest to any one 
who engaged in it. They were all thinking about 
the conflict of serenades, and what might happen next. 

Shortly after breakfast Miss Raleigh came to Mrs. 
Easterfield. “Mr. Du Brant is with her,” she said 
quickly, “and they are walking away. Shall I inter- 
polate ? ” 

“No,” said the other, with a smile j “you can let 
them alone. Nothing will happen this morning, un- 
less, indeed, he should come to ask for a carriage to 
take him to the station.” 

Mrs. Easterfield was busy in her garden when Dick 
Lancaster came to her. “What a wonderfully deter- 
mined expression you have!” said she. “You look 
as if you were going to jump on a street-car without 
stopping it ! ” 

“You are right,” said he. “I am determined, and 
I came to tell you so. I can’t stand this sort of thing 
any longer. I feel like a child who is told he must 
eat at the second table, and who cannot get his meals 
until every one else is finished.” 

“And I suppose,” she said, “you feel there will be 
nothing left for you.” 


199 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


“That is it,” he answered, “and I don’t want to 
wait. My soul rebels ! I can’t stand it ! ” 

“Therefore,” she said, “you wish to appear before 
the meal is ready, and in that case you will get 
nothing.” He looked at her inquiringly. “I mean,” 
said she, “that if you propose to Miss Asher now you 
will be before your time, and she will decline your 
proposition without the slightest hesitation.” 

“I do not quite understand that,” said Dick. 
“Would she decline all others?” 

“I am afraid not.” 

“But why do you except me?” asked Dick. 
“Surely she is not engaged. I know you would tell 
me at once if that were so.” 

“It is not so,” said Mrs. Easterfield. 

“Then I shall take my chances. With all this 
serenading and love-making going on around me and 
around the woman I love with all my heart, I can- 
not stand and wait until I am told my time has 
come. The intensity and the ardor of my feelings for 
her give me the right to speak to her. Unless I 
know that some one else has stepped in before me 
and taken the place I crave, I have decided to speak 
to her just as soon as I can. But I thought it was 
due to you to come first and tell you.” 

“Mr. Lancaster,” said Mrs. Easterfield, speaking 
very quietly, “if you decide to go to Miss Asher and 
ask her to marry you, I know you will do it, for I 
believe you are a man who keeps his word to himself, 
but I assure you that if you do it you will never 
marry her. So you really need not bother yourself 
about going to her j you can simply decide to do it, 
and that will be quite sufficient : and you can stay 
200 


THE CONFLICTING SERENADES 


here and hold these long-stemmed dahlias for me as I 
cut them.” 

A troubled wistfulness showed itself upon the 
young man’s face. “You speak so confidently,” he 
said, “that I almost feel I ought to believe you. Why 
do you tell me that I am the only one of her suitors 
who would certainly be rejected if he offered him- 
self ? » 

Mrs. Easterfield dropped the long-stemmed dahlias 
she had been holding ; and, turning her eyes full upon 
Lancaster, she said : “Because you are the only one 
of them toward whom she has no predilections what- 
ever. More than that, you are the only one toward 
whom she has a positive objection. You are the 
only one who is an intimate friend of her uncle, and 
who would be likely, by means of that intimate 
friendship, to bring her into connection with the 
woman she hates, as well as with a relative she de- 
spises on account of his intended marriage with that 
woman.” 

“All that should not count at all,” cried Dick. “In 
such a matter as this I have nothing to do with 
Captain Asher ! I stand for myself and speak for my- 
self. What is his intended wife to me? Or what 
should she be to her? ” 

“Of course,” said Mrs. Easterfield, “all that would 
not count at all if Olive Asher loved you. But you 
see she doesn’t. I have had it from her own lips 
that her uncle’s intended marriage is, and must al- 
ways be, an effectual barrier between you and her.” 

“What ! ” cried Dick. “Have you spoken to her 
of me? And in that way? ” 

“Yes,” said Mrs. Easterfield, “I have. I did not 
201 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


intend to tell you, but you have forced me to do it. 
You see, she is a young woman of extraordinary good 
sense. She believes she ought to marry, and she is 
going to try to make the very best marriage that she 
possibly can. She has suitors who have very strong 
claims upon her consideration— I am not going to tell 
you those claims, but I know them. Now, you have 
no claim,— special claim, I mean,— but for all this I 
believe, as I have told you before, that you are the 
man she ought to marry, and I have been doing 
everything I can to make her cease considering them, 
and to consider you. And this is the way she came 
to give me her reasons for not considering you at all. 
Now the state of the case is plain before you.” 

Dick bowed his head and fixed his eyes upon the 
dahlias on the ground. 

“Don’t tread on the poor things,” she said, “and 
don’t despair. All you have to do is to let me put a 
curbed bit on you, and for you to consent to wear it 
for a little while. See,” said she, moving her hands 
in the air, as if they were engaged upon the bridle 
of a horse, “I fasten this chain rather closely, and 
buckle the ends of the reins in the lowest curb. Now, 
you must have a steady hand and a resolute will 
until the time comes when the curb is no longer 
needed.” 

“And do you believe that time will come?” he 
asked. 

“It will come,” she said, “when two things happen : 
when she has reason to love you, and has no reason 
to object to you; and, in my opinion, that happy 
combination may arrive if you act sensibly.” 

“But—” said Dick. 


202 


THE CONFLICTING SERENADES 


At this moment a quick step was heard on the 
garden-path and they both turned. It was Olive. 

“Mr. Lancaster,” she cried, “I want you ; that is, 
if Mrs. Easterfield can spare you. We are making 
up a game of tennis. Mr. Du Brant and Mr. Hemp- 
hill are there, but I cannot find Mr. Locker.” 

Mrs. Easterfield could spare him, and Dick Lan. 
caster, with a curbed chain pressing him very hard, 
walked away with Olive Asher. 


203 


CHAPTER XXIII 


THE CAPTAIN AND MARIA 

When the captain drove into Glenford on the day 
when his mind had been so much disturbed by Dick 
Lancaster’s questions regarding a marriage between 
him and Maria Port, he stopped at no place of business, 
he turned not to the right nor to the left, but went 
directly to the house of his old friend with whom he 
had spent the night before. 

Mr. Simeon Port was sitting on his front porch, 
reading his newspaper. He looked up, surprised to 
see the captain again so soon. 

“Simeon,” said the captain, “I want to see Maria. 
I have something to say to her.” 

The old man laid down his newspaper. “Seri- 
ous ? ” said he. 

“Yes, serious,” was the answer, “and I want to see 
her now.” 

Mr. Port reflected for a moment. “Captain,” said 
he, “do you believe you have thought about this as 
much as you ought to ? ” 

“Yes, I have,” replied the captain ; “I’ve thought 
just as much as I ought to. Is she in the house? ” 

Mr. Port did not answer. “Captain John,” said he, 
presently, “Maria isn’t young, that’s plain enough, 
204 


THE CAPTAIN AND MARIA 


considerin’ my age ; but she never does seem to me as 
if she’d growed up. When she was a girl she had ways 
of her own, and she could make water bile quick, and 
now she can make it bile just as quick as ever she did, 
and perhaps quicker. She’s not much on mindin’ the 
helm, Captain John, and there’re other things about 
her that wouldn’t be attractive to husbands when they 
come to find them out. And if I was you I’d take my 
time.” 

“That’s just what I intend to do,” said the captain. 
“This is my time, and I am going to take it.” 

Miss Port, who was busy in the back part of the 
house, heard voices, and now came forward. She was 
wiping her hands upon her apron, and one of them she 
extended to the captain. 

“I am glad to see you— John,” she said, speaking in a 
very gentle voice, and hesitating a little at the last word. 

The captain looked at her steadfastly, and then, 
without taking her hand, he said : “I want to speak to 
you by yourself. I’ll go into the parlor.” 

She politely stepped back to let him pass her, and 
then her father turned quickly to her. 

“Did you expect to see him back so soon?” he 
asked. 

She smiled and looked down. “Oh, yes,” said she, 
“I was sure he’d come back very soon.” 

The old man heaved a sigh, and returned to his 
paper. 

Maria followed the captain. “John,” said she, 
speaking in a low voice, “wouldn’t you rather come 
into the dinin’-room? He’s a little bit hard of hearin’, 
but if you don’t want him to hear any thing he’ll take 
in every word of it.” 


205 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


“Maria Port,” said the captain, speaking in a 
strong, upper-deck voice, “what I have to say I’ll say 
here. I don’t want the people in the street to hear 
me, but if your father chooses to listen I would rather 
he did it than not.” 

She looked at him inquiringly. “Well,” she an- 
swered, “I suppose he will have to hear it some time or 
other, and he might as well hear it now as not. He’s 
all I’ve got in the world, and you know as well as I do 
that I run to tell him everything that happens to me 
as soon as it happens. Will you sit down? ” 

“Ho,” said the captain ; “I can speak better stand- 
ing. Maria Port, I have found out that you have been 
trying to make people believe that I am engaged to 
marry you.” 

The smile did not leave Maria’s face. “Well, ain’t 
you? ” said she. 

A look of blank amazement appeared on the face of 
the captain, but it was quickly succeeded by the black- 
ness of rage. He was about to swear, but restrained 
himself. 

“Engaged to you?” he shouted, forgetting entirely 
the people in the street. “I’d rather be engaged to a 
fin-back shark ! ” 

The smile now left her face. “Oh, thank you very 
much,” she said. “And this is what you meant by 
your years of devotion ! I held out for a long time, 
knowing the difference in our ages and the habits of 
sailors, and now— just when I make up my mind to 
give in, to think of my father and not of myself, and 
to sacrifice my feelin’s so that he might always have 
one of his old friends near him, now that he’s got too 
feeble to go out by himself, and at his age you know 
206 


THE CAPTAIN AND MARIA 


as well as I do lie ought to have somebody near him 
besides me, for who can tell what may happen, or how 
sudden— you come and tell me you’d rather marry a 
fish. I suppose you’ve got somebody else in your 
mind, but that don’t make no difference to me. I’ve 
got no fish to offer you, but I have myself that you’ve 
wanted so long, and which now you’ve got.” 

The angry captain opened his mouth to speak ; he 
was about to ejaculate “Woman ! ” but his sense of pro- 
priety prevented this. He would not apply such an 
epithet to any one in the house of a friend. “ Wretch ” 
rose to his lips, but he would not use even that word ; 
and he contented himself with : “You ! You know 
just as well as you know you are standing there that 
I never had the least idea of marrying you. You 
know, too, that you have tried to make people think 
I had, people here in town and people out at my 
house, where you came over and over again, pretend- 
ing to want to talk about your father’s health, when 
it did not need any more talking about than yours 
does. You know you have made trouble in my 
family; that you so disgusted my niece that she 
would not stop at my house, which had been the 
same thing as her home; you sickened my friends; 
and made my very servants ashamed of me ; and all 
this because you want to marry a man who now 
despises you. I would have despised you long ago if 
I had seen through your tricks, but I didn’t.” 

There was a smile on Miss Port’s face now, but it 
was not such a smile as that with which she had 
greeted the captain ; it was a diabolical grin, bright- 
ened by malice. “You are perfectly right,” she said ; 
“everybody knows we are engaged to be married, and 
207 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


what they think about it doesn’t matter to me the 
snap of my finger. The people in town all know it 
and talk about it, and what’s more, they’ve talked to 
me about it. That niece of yourn knows it, and 
that’s the reason she won’t come near you, and I’m 
sure I’m not sorry for that. As for that old thing 
that helps you at the toll-gate, and as for the young 
man that’s spongin’ on you, I’ve no doubt they’ve 
got a mighty poor opinion of you, and I’ve no doubt 
they’re right. But all that matters nothin’ to me. 
You’re engaged to be married to me ; you know it 
yourself, and everybody knows it ; and what you’ve 
got to do is to marry, or pay. You hear what I say, 
and you know what I’m goin’ to stick to.” 

It may be well for Captain Asher’s reputation that 
he had no opportunity to answer Miss Port’s remarks. 
At that instant Mr. Simeon Port appeared at the 
door which opened from the parlor on the piazza. 
He stepped quickly, his actions showing nothing of 
that decrepitude which his dutiful daughter had 
feared would prevent him from seeking the society 
of his friends. He fixed his eyes on his daughter and 
spoke in a loud, strong voice. 

“Maria,” said he, “go to bed ! I’ve heard what 
you’ve been saying, and I’m ashamed of you. I’ve 
been ashamed of you before, but now it’s worse than 
ever. Go to bed, I tell you ! And this time, go ! ” 

There was nothing in the world that Maria Port 
was afraid of except her father, and of him personally 
she had not the slightest dread. But of his dying 
without leaving her the whole of his fortune she had 
an abiding terror, which often kept her awake at 
night, and which sent a sickening thrill through her 
208 


THE CAPTAIN AND MARIA 


whenever a difficulty arose between her and her 
parent. She was quite sure what he would do if she 
should offend him sufficiently : he would leave her a 
small annuity, enough to support her ; and the rest 
of his money would go to several institutions which 
she had heard him mention in this connection. If 
she could have married Captain Asher she would 
have felt a good deal safer; it would have taken 
much provocation to make her father leave his 
money out of the family if his old friend had been 
one of that family. 

Now, when she heard her father’s voice, and saw 
his dark eyes glittering at her, she knew she was in 
great danger, and the well-known chill ran through 
her. She made no answer ; she cared not who 
was present ; she thought of nothing but that those 
eyes must cease to glitter, and that angry voice 
must not be heard again. She turned and walked 
to her room, which was on the same floor, across 
the hall. 

“And mind you go to bed ! ” shouted her father. 
“And do it regular. You’re not to make believe to 
go to bed, and then get up and walk about as soon as 
my back is turned. I’m cornin’ in presently to see if 
you’ve obeyed me.” 

She answered not, but entered her room, and 
closed the door after her. 

Mr. Port now turned to the captain. “I never 
could find out,” he said, “where Maria got that mind 
of hern. It isn’t from my side, for my father and 
mother was as good people as ever lived, and it wasn’t 
from her mother, for you knew her, and there wasn’t 
anything of the kind about her.” 

209 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 

“No,” said Captain Asher, “not the least bit of 
it.” 

“It must have been from her grandmother Ellis,” 
said the old man. “I never knew her, for she died 
before I was acquainted with the family, but I expect 
she died of deviltry. That’s the only insight I can 
get into the reasons for Maria’s havin’ the mind she’s 
got. But I tell you, Captain John, you’ve had a 
blessed escape ! I didn’t know she was in the habit 
of goin’ out to your house so often. She didn’t tell 
me that.” 

“Simeon,” said the captain, “I think I will go now. 
“I have had enough of Maria. I don’t suppose I’ll 
hear from her very soon again.” 

The old man smiled. “No,” said he, “I don’t think 
she’ll want to trouble you any more.” 

Miss Port, whose ear was at the keyhole of her door 
not twelve feet away, grinned malignantly. 

Soon after Captain Asher had gone Mr. Port walked 
to the door of his daughter’s room, gave a little 
knock, and then opened the door a little. 

“You are in bed, are you?” said he. “Well, that’s 
good for you. Turn down that coverlid and let me 
see if you’ve got your nightclothes on.” She obeyed. 
“Very well,” he continued ; “now you stay there 
until I tell you to get up.” 

Captain Asher went home, still in a very bad humor. 
He had ceased to be angry with Maria Port ; he was 
done with her ; and he let her pass out of his mind. 
But he was angry with other people, especially with 
Olive. She had allowed herself to have a most con- 
temptuous opinion of him ; she had treated him 
shamefully ; and as he thought of her his indignation 
210 


THE CAPTAIN AND MARIA 


increased instead of diminishing. And young Lan- 
caster had believed it ! And old Jane ! It was enough 
to make a stone slab angry, and the captain was not 
a stone slab. 


211 


CHAPTER XXIV 


MR. TOM ARRIVES AT BROADSTONE 

After the conclusion of the game of tennis in which 
Olive and three of her lovers participated, Claude 
Locker, returning from a long walk, entered the 
grounds of Broadstone. He had absented himself 
from that hospitable domain for purposes of re- 
flection, and also to avoid the company of Mr. Du 
Brant. Not that he was afraid of the diplomat, but 
because of the important interview appointed for the 
latter part of the morning. He very much wished 
that no unpleasantness of any kind should occur be- 
fore the time for that interview. 

Having found that he had given himself more time 
than was necessary for his reflections and his walk, 
he had rested in the shade of a tree and had written 
two poems. One of these was the serenade which 
he would have roared out on the night air on a very 
recent occasion if he had had time to prepare it. It 
was, in his opinion, far superior to the impromptu 
verses of which he had been obliged to make use, and 
it pleased him to think that if things should go well 
with him after the interview to which he was look- 
ing forward, he would read that serenade to its object, 
and ask her to substitute it in her memory for the 
212 


MR. TOM ARRIVES AT BROADSTONE 


inharmonic lines which he had used in order to 
smother the degenerate melody of a foreign lay. The 
other poem was intended for use in case his interview 
should not be successful. But on the way home Mr. 
Locker experienced an entire change of mind. He 
came to believe that it would be unwise for him to 
arrange to use either of those poems on that day. 
For all he knew, Miss Asher might like foreign de- 
generate lays, and she might be annoyed that he had 
interfered with one. He remembered that she had 
told him that if he had insisted on an immediate an- 
swer to his proposition it would have been very easy 
to give it to him. He realized what that meant; 
and, for all he knew, she might be quite as ready this 
morning to act with similar promptness. That Du 
Brant business might have settled her mind, and it 
would therefore be very well for him to be careful 
about what he did, and what he asked for. 

About half an hour before luncheon, when he 
neared the house and perceived Miss Asher on the lawn, 
it seemed to him very much as if she were looking 
for him. This he did not like, and he hurried toward 
her. 

“Miss Asher,” said he, “I wish to propose an 
amendment.” 

“To] what?” asked Olive. “But first tell me 
where you have been and what you have been doing ? 
You are covered with dust, and look as hot as if you 
had been pulling the boat against the rapids. I have 
not seen you the whole morning.” 

“I have been walking,” said he, “and thinking. 
It is dreadful hot work to think. That should be done 
only in winter weather.” 


213 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


“It would be a woful thing to take a cold on the 
mind,” said Olive. 

“That is so ! ” he replied. “That is exactly what I 
am afraid of this morning, and that is the reason I 
want to propose my amendment. I beg most earnestly 
that yon will not make this interview definitive. I 
am afraid if you do I may get chills in my mind, 
soul, and heart from which I shall never recover. I 
have an idea that the weather may not be as favorable 
as it was yesterday for the unveiling of tender emo- 
tions.” 

“Why so?” asked Olive. 

“There are several reasons,” returned Mr. Locker. 
“For one thing, that musical uproar last night. I have 
not heard anything about that, and I don’t know 
where I stand.” 

Olive laughed. “It was splendid,” said she. “I 
liked you a great deal better after that than I did 
before.” 

“Now tell me,” he exclaimed hurriedly, “and 
please lose no time, for here comes a surrey from the 
station with a gentleman in it— do you like me enough 
better to give me a favorable answer, now, right here ? ” 

“No,” said Olive. “I do not feel warranted in 
being so precipitate as that.” 

“Then please say nothing on the subject,” said 
Locker. “Please let us drop the whole matter for to- 
day. And may I assume that I am at liberty to take it 
up again to-morrow at this hour ? ” 

“You may,” said Olive. “What gentleman is that, 
do you suppose f ” 

“I know him,” said Locker, “and, fortunately, he is 
married. He is Mr. Easterfield.” 

214 


MR. TOM ARRIVES AT BROADSTONE 


“Here’s papa ! Here’s papa ! ” shouted the two lit- 
tle girls as they ran out of the front door. 

“And, papa,” said the oldest one, “we want you to 
tell us a story just as soon as you have brushed your 
hair ! Mr. Rupert has been telling us stories, but 
yours are a great deal better.” 

“Yes,” said the other little girl, “he makes all the 
children too good. They can’t be good, you know, 
and there’s no use trying. We told him so, but he 
doesn’t mind.” 

There was story-telling after luncheon, but the papa 
did not tell them, and the children were sent away. 
It was Mrs. Easterfield who told the stories, and Mr. 
Tom was a most interested listener. 

“Well,” said he when she had finished, “this seems 
to be a somewhat tangled state of affairs.” 

“It certainly is,” she replied, “and I tangled 
them.” 

“And you expect me to straighten them?” he 
asked. 

“Of course I do,” she replied, “and I expect you to 
begin by sending Mr. Hemphill away. You know I 
could not do it, but I should think it would be easy 
for you.” 

“Would you object if I lighted a cigar? ” he asked. 

“Of course not,” she said. “Did you ever hear me 
object to anything of the kind? ” 

“Ho,” said he, “but I never have smoked in this 
room, and I thought perhaps Miss Raleigh might ob- 
ject when she came in to do your writing.” 

“My writing ! ” exclaimed Mrs. Easterfield. “How 
don’t trifle ! This is no time to make fun of me. 
Olive may be accepting him this minute.” 

215 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


“It seems to me/ 7 said Mr. Easterfield, slowly puff- 
ing his cigar, “that it would not be such a very bad 
thing if she did. So far as I have been able to judge, he 
is my favorite of the claimants. Du Brant and I have 
met frequently, and if I were a girl I would not want 
to marry him. Locker is too little for Miss Asher, and, 
besides, he is too flighty. Your young professor may 
be good enough, but from my limited conversation 
with him at the table I could not form much of an 
opinion as to him one way or another. I have an 
opinion of Hemphill, and a very good one. He is a first- 
class young man, a rising one with prospects, and, 
more than that, I think he is the best-looking of the 
lot” 

“Tom,” said Mrs. Easterfield, “do you suppose I 
sent for you to talk such nonsense as that? Can you 
imagine that my sense of honor toward Olive’s parents 
would allow me even to consider a marriage between 
a high-class girl such as she is— high-class in every way 
—to a mere commonplace private secretary? I don’t 
care what his attributes and merits are ; he is common- 
place to the backbone ; and he is impossible. If what 
ought to be a brilliant career ends suddenly in Rupert 
Hemphill I shall have Olive on my conscience for the 
rest of my life.” 

“That settles it,” said Mr. Tom Easterfield ; “your 
conscience, my dear, has not been trained to carry 
loads, and I shall not help to put one on it. Hemphill 
is a good man, but we must rule him out.” 

“Yes,” said she ; “Olive is a great deal more than 
good. He must be ruled out.” 

“But I can’t send him away this afternoon,” Tom 
continued. “That would put them both on their met- 
216 


MR. TOM ARRIVES AT BROADSTONE 

tie, and, ten to one, he would considerately announce 
his engagement before he left.” 

u No,” said she. “ Olive is very sharp, and would 
resent that. But now that you are here I feel safe 
from any immediate rashness on their part.” 

“ You are right,” said Mr. Tom. “ My very com- 
ing will give them pause. And now I want to see the 
girl.” 

u What for ? ” asked Mrs. Easterfield. 
u I want to get acquainted with her. I don’t know 
her yet, and I can’t talk to her if I don’t know her.” 

11 Are you going to talk to her about Hemphill ? ” 
u Yes, for one thing,” he answered. 

“ Well,” said she, u you will have to be very cir- 
cumspect. She is both alert and sensitive.” 

u Oh, I’ll be circumspect enough,” he replied. 
“ Y ou may trust me for that.” 

It was not long after this that Mrs. Easterfield, 
being engaged in some hospitable duties, sent Olive to 
show Mr. Tom the garden, and it was rather a slight 
to that abode of beauty that the tour of the rose-lined 
paths occupied but a very few minutes, when Mr. Eas- 
terfield became tired, and desired to sit down. Having 
seated themselves on Mrs. Easterfield’s favorite bench, 
Olive looked up at her companion, and asked : 

u Well, sir, what is it you brought me here to say 
to me f ” 

Mr. Tom laughed, and so did she. 

“If it is anything about the gentlemen who are 
paying their addresses to me, you may as well begin at 
once, for that will save time, and really an introduction 
is not necessary.” 

Mr. Easterfield’s admiration for this young lady, 
217 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


which had been steadily growing, was not decreased by 
this remark. “ This girl,” said he to himself, “ de- 
serves a nimble-witted husband. Hemphill would 
never do for her. It seems to me,” he said aloud, 
“ thqt we are already well enough acquainted for me 
to proceed with the remarks which you have correctly 
assumed I came here to make.” 

“ Yes,” said she, “ 1 have always thought that some 
people are born to become acquainted, and when they 
meet they instantly perceive the fact, and the thing is 
accomplished. They can then proceed.” 

“ Very well,” said he, “ we will proceed.” 

“ I suppose,” said Olive, “ that Mrs. Easterfield has 
explained everything, and that you agree with her and 
with me that it is a sensible thing for a girl in my 
position to marry, and, having no one to attend wisely 
to such a matter for me, that I should endeavor to at- 
tend to it myself as wisely as I can. Also, that a little 
bit of pique, caused by the fact that I am to have an 
old schoolfellow for a stepmother, is excusable.” 

“ And it is this pique which puts you in such a 
hurry ? I did not exactly understand that.” 

“ Yes, it does,” said she. “I very much wish to 
announce my own engagement, if not my marriage, 
before any arrangements shall be made which may 
include me. Do you think me wrong in this ! ” 

“ Ho, I don’t,” said Mr. Easterfield. “ If I were 
a girl in your place I think I would do the same thing 
myself.” 

Olive’s face expressed her gratitude. “ And now,” 
said she, “what do you think of the young men? I 
feel so well acquainted with you through Mrs. Easter- 
field that I shall give a great deal of weight to your 
218 


MR. TOM ARRIVES AT BROADSTONE 


opinion. But first let me ask you one tiling : After 
what you have heard of me do you think I am a 
flirt? ” 

Mr. Tom knitted his brows a little, then he smiled, 
and then he looked out over the flower-beds without 
saying anything. 

“Don’t be afraid to say so if you think so,” said she. 
“You must be perfectly plain and frank with me, or 
our acquaintanceship will wither away.” 

Under the influence of this threat he spoke. “Well,” 
said he, “I should not feel warranted in calling you a 
flirt, but it does seem to me that you have been flirt- 
ing.” 

“I think you are wrong, Mr. Easterfield,” said Olive, 
speaking very gravely. “I never saw any one of these 
young men before I came here except Mr. Hemphill, 
and he was an entirely different person when I knew 
him before, and I have given no one of them any 
special encouragement. If Mr. Locker were not such 
an impetuous young man, I think the others would 
have been more deliberate ; but as it was easy to see 
the state of his mind, and as we are all making but a 
temporary stay here, these other young men saw that 
they must act quickly, or not at all. This, while it was 
very amusing, was also a little annoying, and I should 
greatly have preferred slower and more deliberate 
movements on the part of these young men. But all 
my feelings changed when my father’s letter came to 
me. I was glad then that they had proposed already.” 

“That is certainly honest,” said Mr. Tom. 

“Of course it is honest,” replied Olive. “I am here 
to speak honestly if I speak at all. How, don’t you 
see that if under these peculiar circumstances one 
219 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


eligible young man bad proposed to me I ought to have 
considered myself fortunate? Now here are three to 
choose from. Do you not agree with me that it is 
my duty to try to choose the best one of them, and 
not to discourage any until I feel very certain about my 
choice ? ” 

“That is business-like,” said Mr. Easterfield $ “but 
do you love any one of them? ” 

“No, I don’t,” answered Olive, “except that there 
is a feeling in that direction in the case of Mr. Hemp- 
hill. I suppose Mrs. Easterfield has told you that when 
I was a school-girl I was deeply in love with him ; and 
now, when I think of those old times, I believe it would 
not be impossible for those old sentiments to return. 
So there really is a tie between him and me, even 
though it be a slight one, which does not exist at all 
between me and any one of the others.” 

For a moment neither of them spoke. “ That is very 
bad, young woman,” thought Mr. Tom. “A slight tie 
like that is apt to grow thick and strong suddenly.” 
But he could not discourse about Mr. Hemphill j he 
knew that would be very dangerous. He would have 
to be considered, however, and much more seriously 
than he had supposed. 

“Well,” said he, “I will tell you this : if I were a 
young man, unmarried, and on a visit to Broadstone 
at this time, I should not like to be treated as you are 
treating the young men who are here. It is all very 
well for a young woman to look after herself and her 
own interests, but I should be very sorry to have my 
fate depend upon the merits of other people. I may 
not be correct, but I am afraid I should feel I was 
being flirted with.” 


220 


MR. TOM ARRIVES AT BROADSTONE 


“Well, then,” said Olive, giving a quick, forward 
motion on the bench, “you think I ought to settle this 
matter immediately, and relieve myself at once from 
the imputation of trifling with earnest affection 1 ” 

“Oh, no, no, no!” cried Mr. Easterfield. “Not at 
all ! Don’t do anything rash ! ” 

Olive leaned back on the bench, and laughed heart- 
ily. “There is so much excellent advice in this 
world,” she said, “which is not intended to be used. 
However, it is valuable all the same. And now, sir, 
what is it you would like me to do? Something 
plain, intended for every-day use.” 

Mr. Tom leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. 
“It does not appear to me,” he said, “that you have 
told me very much I did not know before, for Mrs. 
Easterfield put the matter very plainly before me.” 

“And it does not seem to me,” said Olive, “that 
you have given me any definite counsel, and I know 
that is what you came here to do.” 

“You are mistaken there,” he said. “I came here 
to find out what sort of a girl you are j my counsels 
must depend on my discoveries. But there is one 
thing I want to ask you : you are all the time talk- 
ing about three young men ; now, there are four of 
them here.” 

“Yes,” she answered quickly. “But only three of 
them have proposed ; and, besides, if the other were 
to do so, he would have to be set aside for what I may 
call family reasons. I don’t want to go into particu- 
lars because the subject is very painful to me.” 

For a moment Mr. Tom did not speak. Then, de- 
termined to go through with what he had come to do, 
which was to make himself acquainted with this girl, 
221 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


he said : “I do not wish to discuss anything that is 
painful to you, but Mrs. Easterfield and I are very 
much disturbed for fear that in some way your visit 
to Broadstone created some misunderstanding or dis- 
agreeable feeling between you and your uncle. Now, 
would you mind telling me whether this is so, or 
not?” 

She looked at him steadily. “ There is an unpleas- 
ant feeling between me and my uncle, but this visit 
has nothing to do with it. And I am going to tell 
you all about it. I hate to feel so much alone in the 
world that I can’t talk to anybody about what makes 
me unhappy. I might have spoken to Mrs. Easter- 
field, but she didn’t ask me. But you have asked 
me, and that makes me feel that I am really better 
acquainted with you than with her.” 

This remark pleased Mr. Tom, but he did not think 
it would be necessary to put it into his report to his 
wife. He had promised to be very circumspect ; and 
circumspection should act in every direction. 

“It is very hard for a girl such as I am,” she con- 
tinued, “to be alone in the world, and that is a very 
good reason for getting married as soon as I can.” 

“And for being very careful whom you marry,” 
interrupted Mr. Easterfield. 

“Of course,” said she, “and I am trying very hard 
to be that. A little while ago I had a father with 
whom I expected to live and be happy, but that 
dream is over now. And then I thought I had an 
uncle who was going to be more of a father to me 
than my own father had ever been. But that dream 
is over, too.” 

“And why?” asked Mr. Easterfield. 

222 


MR. TOM ARRIVES AT BROADSTONE 

“He is going to marry a woman/’ said Olive, “that 
is perfectly horrible, and with whom I could not 
live. And the worst of it all is that he never told 
me a word about it.” 

As she said this Olive looked very solemn ; and 
Mr. Tom, not knowing on the instant what would 
be proper to say, looked solemn also. 

“You may think it strange,” said she, “that I talk 
in this way to you, but you came here to find out 
what sort of girl I am, and I am perfectly willing to 
help you do it. Besides, in a case like this, I would 
rather talk to a man than to a woman.” 

Mr. Tom believed her, but he did not know at this 
stage of the proceedings what it would be wise to say. 
He was also fully aware that if he said the wrong 
thing it would be very bad indeed. 

“Now, you see,” said she, “there is another reason 
why I should marry as soon as possible. In my case 
most girls would take up some pursuit which would 
make them independent, but I don’t like business. I 
want to be at the head of a household ; and, what is 
more, I want to have something to do— I mean a 
great deal to do— with the selection of a husband.” 

The conversation was taking a direction which 
frightened Mr. Tom. In the next moment she might 
be asking advice about the choice of a husband. It 
was plain enough that love had nothing to do with 
the matter, and Mr. Tom did not wish to act the part 
of a practical-minded Cupid. “And now let me ask 
a favor of you,” said he. “Won’t you give me time 
to think over this matter a little ? ” 

“That is exactly what I say to my suitors,” said 
Olive, smiling. 


223 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


Mr. Tom smiled also. “But won’t you promise me 
not to do anything definite until I see you again f ” 
he asked earnestly. 

“That is not very unlike what some of my suitors 
say to me,” she replied. “But I will promise you 
that when you see me again I shall still be heart- 
free.” 

“There can be no doubt of that,” Mr. Tom said to 
himself as they arose to leave the garden. “And, my 
young woman, you may deny being a flirt, but you 
permitted the addresses of two young men before you 
were upset by your father’s letter. But I think I like 
flirts. At any rate, I cannot help liking her, and I 
believe she has got a heart somewhere, and will 
find it some day.” 

When Mr. Tom returned to the house he did not 
find his wife, for that lady was occupied somewhere 
in entertaining her guests. Now, although it might 
have been considered his duty to go and help her in 
her hospitable work, he very much preferred to at- 
tend to the business which she had sent for him to do. 
And walking to the stables, he was soon mounted on 
a good horse, and riding away southward on the 
smooth gray turnpike. 


224 


CHAPTER XXV 


THE CAPTAIN AND MR. TOM 

Captain Asher was standing at the door of the toll- 
house when he saw Mr. Easterfield approaching. He 
recognized him, although he had had but one brief 
interview with him one day at the toll-gate some time 
before. Mr. Easterfield was a man absorbed in busi- 
ness, and the first summer Mrs. Easterfield was at 
Broadstone he was in Europe engaged in large and 
important affairs, and had not been at the summer 
home at all. And, so far this summer, he had been 
there but once before, and then for only a couple of 
days. Now, as the captain saw the gentleman com- 
ing toward the toll-gate, he had no reason for sup- 
posing that he would not go through it. Neverthe- 
less, his mind was disturbed. Any one coming from 
Broadstone disturbed his mind. He had not quite de- 
cided whether or not to ask any questions concerning 
the late members of his household, when the horse- 
man stopped at the gate, and handed him the toll. 

“Good morning, captain,” said Mr. Easterfield 
cheerily, for he had heard much in praise of the toll- 
gate-keeper from his wife. 

“Good morning, Mr. Easterfield,” said the captain, 
gravely. 


225 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


“I am glad I do not have to introduce myself,” 
said Mr. Easterfield, “for I am only going through 
your gate as far as that tree to tie my horse. Then, 
if convenient to you, I should like to have a little 
talk with you.” 

The captain’s mind, which had been relieved when 
Mr. Easterfield paid his toll, now sank again. But he 
could not say a talk would be inconvenient. “If I 
had known that you were not going on,” he said, 
“you need not have paid.” 

“Like most people in this life,” said Mr. Easterfield, 
“I pay for what I have already done, and not for 
what I am going to do. And now have you leisure, 
sir, for a short conversation? ” 

The captain looked very glum. He felt not the 
slightest desire now to ask questions, and still less de- 
sire to be interrogated. However, he was not afraid 
of anything any one might say to him ; and if a cer- 
tain subject was broached, he had something to say 
himself. 

“Yes,” said he j “do you prefer indoors or out of 
doors ? ” 

“Out of doors, if it suits,” replied the visitor, “for 
I would like to take a smoke.” 

“I am with you there,” said the captain, as he led 
the way to the little arbor. 

Here Mr. Easterfield lighted a cigar, and the cap- 
tain a pipe. 

“How, sir,” said the latter, when the tobacco in 
his bowl was in a satisfactory glow, “what is it you 
want to talk about? ” He spoke as if he were behind 
intrenchments, and ready for an attack. 

“We have two of your guests with us,” answered 
226 


THE CAPTAIN AND MR. TOM 


Mr. Easter field, “ Professor Lancaster, and your 
niece.” 

“Oh,” said the captain, evidently relieved. “I 
thought perhaps you had come to ask questions 
about some reports you may have heard in regard to 
me.” 

“Not at all, not at all,” said Mr. Easterfield. “I 
would not think of mentioning your private affairs, 
about which I have not the slightest right or wish to 
speak. But as we have apparently appropriated two 
of your young people, I think, and Mrs. Easterfield 
agrees with me, that it is but right you should be 
informed as to their health, and what they are 
doing.” 

The captain puffed vigorously. “When is Dick 
Lancaster coming back ? ” he asked. 

“I can’t say anything about that,” replied Mr. 
Easterfield, “for I am not master of ceremonies. We 
would like to keep him as long as we can, but, of 
course, your claims must be considered.” 

“I should think so,” remarked the captain. 

“Professor Lancaster is a remarkably fine young 
man,” said the other, “and as he is a friend of yours, 
and as I should like him to be a friend of mine, it 
would give me pleasure to talk to you more about 
him. But I may as well confess that my real object in 
coming here is to talk about your niece. Of course, as 
I said before, it might appear that I have no right to 
meddle with your family affairs, but in this case I 
certainly think I am justified ; for, as Mrs. Easter- 
field invited the young lady to leave you and to come 
to her, and as all that has happened to her has hap- 
pened at our house, and in consequence of that invi- 
227 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


tation, I think that you, as her nearest accessible 
relative, should be told of what has occurred/ 7 

The captain made no answer, but gazed steadily 
into the face of the speaker. 

“ Therefore, 77 continued Mr. Easterfield, “I will 
simply state that my wife and I have very good rea- 
son to believe that your niece is about to engage her- 
self in marriage ,* and I will only add that we are 
very sorry indeed that this should have occurred 
under our roof. 77 

A sudden and curious change came over the face of 
the captain ,* a light sparkled in his eye, and a faint 
flush, as if of pleasure, was visible under his swarthy 
skin. He leaned toward his companion. 

“Is it Hick Lancaster? 77 he asked quickly. 

Mr. Easterfield answered gravely : “I wish it were, 
but I am very sorry to say it is not. 77 

The light went out of the captain 7 s eye. He leaned 
back on his bench and the little flush in his cheeks 
was succeeded by a sombre coldness. “Very good, 77 
said he 5 “I don’t want to hear anything more about 
it, and, what is more, it would not be right for you to 
tell me, even if I did want to know. It is none of 
my business. 77 

“How, really, Captain Asher— 77 began Mr. Easter- 
field. 

“Ho, sir, 77 the captain interrupted. “It is none of 
my business, and I don’t want to hear anything about 
it. And now, sir, I would like to tell you something. 
It is something I thought you came here to ask 
about, and I did not like it, but now I want to tell 
you of my own free will, in confidence. That is to 
say, I don’t want you to speak of it to anybody in 
*228 


THE CAPTAIN AND MR. TOM 


your house. I suppose you have heard something 
about my intending to marry a woman in town t ” 

“Yes,” said Mr. Easterfield, “I cannot deny that I 
have, but I considered it was entirely your own 
affair, and I had not—” 

“Of course,” interrupted the captain, “and I want 
to tell you— but I don’t want my niece to hear it as 
coming from me— that that whole thing is a most 
abominable lie ! That woman has been trying to 
make people believe I am going to marry her, and 
she has made a good many believe it, but I would 
rather cut my throat than marry her. But I have 
told her what I think of her in a way she cannot mis- 
take. And that ends her ! I tell you this, Mr. Easter- 
field, because I believe you are a good man, and you 
certainly seem to be a friendly man, and I would like 
you to know it. I would have liked very much to 
tell everybody, especially my own flesh and blood, 
but now I assure you, sir, I am too proud to have her 
know it through me. Let her go on and marry any- 
body she pleases, and let her think anything she 
pleases about me. She has been satisfied with her 
own opinion of me without giving me a chance to 
explain to her, or to tell her the truth, and now she 
can stay satisfied with it until somebody else sets her 
straight.” 

“But this is very hard, captain,” said Mr. Easter- 
field ; “hard on you, hard on her, and hard on all of 
us, I may say.” 

The captain made no answer to these words, and 
did not appear to hear them. “I tell you, Mr. Easter- 
field,” he said presently, “that I did not know until 
now how much I cared for that girl. I don’t mind 
229 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


saying this to you because you come to me like a 
friend, and I believe in you. Yes, sir, I did not 
know how much I cared for her, and it is pretty hard 
on me to find out how little she cares for me.” 

“You are wrong there,” said Mr. Easterfield. 
“My wife tells me that Miss Asher has frequently 
talked to her about you and her life here, and it is 
certain she has—” 

“Oh, that does not make any difference,” inter- 
rupted the captain. “I am talking about things as 
they are now. “It was all very well as long as things 
seemed to be going right, but I believe in people 
who stand by you when things seem to be going 
wrong, and who keep on standing by you until they 
know how they are going, and that is exactly what 
she did not do. Now, there was Dick Lancaster ; he 
came to me and asked me squarely about that affair. 
To be sure, I cut him off short, for it angered me to 
think that he, or anybody else, should have such an 
idea of me, and, besides, it was none of his business. 
But it should have been her business ; she ought to 
have made it her business ; and, even if the thing had 
stood differently, I would have told her exactly how 
it did stand, and then she could have said to me 
what she thought about it, and what she was going 
to do. But instead of that, she just made up her 
mind about me, and away went everything. Yes, 
sir, everything. I can’t tell you the plans I had 
made for her and for myself, and, I may say, for Dick 
Lancaster. If it suited her, I wanted her to marry 
him, and if it suited her I wanted to go and live with 
them in his college town, or any other place they 
might want to go. Again and again, after I knew 
230 


THE CAPTAIN AND MR. TOM 

Dick, have I gone over this thing and planned it out 
this way, and that way, but always with us three in 
the middle of everything. Do you see that?” con- 
tinued the captain after a slight pause, as he drew 
from his pocket a dainty little pearl paper-cutter. 
“That belongs to her. She used to sit out here, and 
cut the leaves of books as she read them. I can see 
her little hand now as it went sliding along the edges 
of the pages. When she went away she left it on the 
bench, and I took it. And I’ve kept it in my pocket 
to take out when I sit here, and cut books with it 
when I have ’em. I haven’t many books that ain’t 
cut, but I’ve sat here and cut ’em till there wasn’t 
any left. And then I cut a lot of old volumes of 
Coast Survey Reports. It is a foolish thing for an 
old man to do, but then— but then— well, you see, I 
did it.” 

There was a choke in the captain’s voice as he 
leaned over to put the paper-cutter in his pocket and 
to pick up his pipe, which he had laid on the bench 
beside him. Mr. Easterfield was touched and sur- 
prised. He would not have supposed the captain to 
be a man of such tender sentiment. And he took him 
at once to his heart. “It is a shame,” his thoughts 
ran, “for this man to be separated from the niece he so 
loves. She is a cold-hearted girl, or she does not un- 
derstand him. It must not be.” 

Had he been a woman he would have said all this, 
but, being a man, he found it difficult to break the 
silence which followed the captain’s last words. He 
did not know what to say, although he had no hesita- 
tion in making up his mind what he was going to do 
about it all. He arose. 


231 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


“Captain Asher / 7 he said, “I have now told you 
what I thought you should know, and I must take my 
departure. I would not presume for a moment to offer 
you any advice in regard to your family affairs, but 
there is one thing Mrs. Easterfield and I will interfere 
with, if we can, for we feel that we have a right to do 
it, and that is any definite and immediate engagement 
of your niece. If she should promise herself in mar- 
riage at our house we shall feel that we are responsible 
for it, and that, in fact, we brought it about. Whether 
the match shall seem desirable to you or not, we do not 
wish to be answerable for it . 77 

“Oh, I need not be counted in at all , 77 said the cap- 
tain, who had recovered his composure. “It is her 
own affair. I suppose it was the news of her father’s 
intended marriage that put her in such a hurry . 77 

“You are right / 7 said Mr. Easterfield. 

“Just like her ! 77 the captain exclaimed. “And I 
don’t blame her. I’m with her there ! 77 

When Mr. Tom reached Broadstone he dismounted 
at the stable and walked to the house. Nobody was 
to be seen on the grounds. It was a warm afternoon 
when those whose hearts were undisturbed by the tur- 
moils of love were apt to be napping, and those who 
were in the tumultuous state of mind referred to pre- 
ferred to separate themselves from each other and the 
rest of the world until the cause of their inquietude 
should consider the heat of the summer day as suffi- 
ciently mitigated for her to appear again among her 
fellow-beings. 

Mr. Easterfield did not care to meet any of his 
guests, and hoped to find his wife in her room, that he 
might report, and consult. But, as he approached the 
232 


THE CAPTAIN AND MR. TOM 


house, he saw at an upper window a female head. It 
stayed there just long enough for him to see that it 
was Olive’s head; then it disappeared. When he 
reached the hall door there stood Olive. 

Mr. Tom was a little disappointed. He wanted to 
see his wife immediately, and then to see Olive. But 
he could not say so. 

“Well,” said the girl, coming down the steps, “it 
looks as if we had arranged to meet. But although 
we didn’t, let’s take a little walk. I have something 
I want to say to you.” 

Mr. Easterfield turned and walked away from the 
house. He was a masterful man, and did not like to 
have his plans interfered with. Therefore he made a 
dash, and had the first word. “Miss Asher,” said he, 
“I am glad to hear anything you have to say, but first 
you must really listen to me.” 

Olive looked at him with surprise. She also was a 
masterful person, and not accustomed to be treated in 
this way. But he gave her no chance. 

“Miss Asher,” said he, “I have come to you to 
speak for one of your lovers, the truest, best lover you 
ever had, and, I believe, ever will have.” 

Olive looked at him steadfastly, and her face grew 
hard. “Mr. Easterfield,” she said, “this will not do. 
I have told you I will not have it. Mrs. Easterfield 
and you have been very good and kind, and I have told 
you everything, but you do not seem to remember one 
thing I have said. I will not have anybody forced 
upon me ; no matter if he happens to be an angel from 
heaven, or no matter how much better he may be than 
anybody else on earth. I have my reasons for this de- 
termination. They are good reasons, and, above all, 
233 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


they are my reasons. I don’t want you to think me 
rude, but if you persist in forcing that gentleman upon 
my attention, I shall have to request that the whole 
subject be dropped between us.” 

u Who in the name of common sense do you think I 
am talking about?” exclaimed Mr. Tom. “Do you 
think I refer to Mr. Lancaster ? ” 

“I do,” she said. “You know you would not come 
to plead the cause of any one of the others.” 

He looked down at her half doubtfully, wondering 
a little how she would take what he was going to say. 
“You are mistaken,” he said quietly. “I have noth- 
ing whatever to say about Mr. Lancaster. The lover 
I speak of is your uncle.” 

Then her face turned red. “Why do you use that 
expression? Did he send you to say it? ” 

“Hot at all. I came of my own free will. I went 
to see Captain Asher immediately after I left you. 
Perhaps you are thinking that I have no right to in- 
trude in your family affairs, but I do not mind your 
thinking that. I had a long talk with your uncle. I 
found that the uppermost sentiment of his soul was 
his love for you. You had come into his life like the 
break of day. Every little thing you had owned or 
touched was dear to him because it had been yours, or 
you had used it. All his plans in life had been remade 
in reference to you.” 

They had stopped and were standing facing each 
other. They could not walk and talk as they were 
talking. 

“Yet, but,” she exclaimed, her face pale and her 
eyes fixed steadfastly upon him, “but what of 
that—” 


234 


THE CAPTAIN AND MR. TOM 


“There are no yets and buts,” he exclaimed, half 
angry with her that she hesitated. “I know what yon 
were going to say, but that woman you have heard of 
is nothing to him. He hates her worse than you hate 
her. She has imposed upon you $ how I know not ; but 
she is an impostor.’ 7 

At this instant she seized him by the arm. “Mr. 
Easterfield,” she cried, and as she spoke the tears were 
running down her cheeks, “please let me have a car- 
riage— something covered ! I would go on my wheel, 
for that would be quicker, but I don’t want anybody 
to speak to me or see me ! Will you have it brought to 
the back door, Mr. Easterfield, please? I will run 
to the house, and be waiting when it comes.” 

She did not wait for him to answer. He did not ask 
her where she was going. He knew very well. She 
ran to the house, and he hurried to the stable. 

Having given his orders, Mr. Tom went in search of 
his wife. The moment had arrived when it was abso- 
lutely necessary to let her know what was going on. 

He found her in her own room. “Where on earth 
have you been ? ” she exclaimed. “I have been look- 
ing everywhere for you.” 

In as few words as possible he told her where he 
had been, and what he had done. 

“And where are you going now?” she asked. 

“I am going to change my coat,” said the good Mr. 
Tom. “After my ride to the toll-gate and back this 
jacket is too dusty for me to drive with her.” 

“Drive with her ! ” exclaimed Mrs. Easterfield. “It 
will be very well for you to get rid of some of that 
dust, but when the carriage comes I will drive with 
Olive to see her uncle.” 


235 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


And thus it happened that Mr. Tom stayed at home 
with the house party while the close carriage, con- 
taining his wife and that dear girl, Olive Asher, 
rolled swiftly southward over the smooth turnpike 
road. 


236 


CHAPTER XXVI 


A STOP AT THE TOLL-GATE 

The four lovers at Broadstone walked, and wandered, 
and waited, after breakfast that morning, but only one 
of them knew definitely what he was waiting for, and 
that was Mr. Locker. He was waiting for half-past 
twelve o’clock, when he would join Miss Asher, if she 
gave him an opportunity j and he was sure she would 
give him one, for she was always to be trusted. He 
intended this interview to be decisive. It would not 
do for him to wait any longer ; yes or no must be her 
word. She had been walking down by the river with 
the best clothes on the premises, and he now feared the 
owner of those clothes more than anybody else. He 
was a keen-sighted young man, for otherwise how could 
he have been a poet, and he assured himself that Miss 
Asher was taking Hemphill seriously. 

So Mr. Locker determined to charge the works of the 
enemy that day before luncheon. When the conflict 
was over his flag might float high and free or it might 
lie trampled in the dust, but the battle should be 
fought, and no quarter would be asked or given. 

As for Mr. Hemphill and Mr. Du Brant, they simply 
wandered, and waited, and bored the rest of the com- 
pany. They did not care to do anything, for that 
237 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


might embarrass them in case Miss Asher appeared and 
wished to do something else ; they did not want to stay 
in the house because she might show herself somewhere 
out of doors $ they did not want to stay on the grounds 
because at any moment she might seat herself in the 
library with a book ; above all things, they wanted to 
keep away from each other ; and their indeterminate 
peregrinations made sick the souls of Mr. and Mrs. Fox. 

The diplomat did not know what he was going to 
do when he saw Miss Asher alone ; everything would 
depend upon surrounding circumstances, for he was 
quick as well as wary, and could make up his mind on 
the instant. But good Bupert Hemphill had not even 
as much decision of purpose as this. He had already 
spent half an hour with the lady of his love, and he 
had not been very happy. Delighted that she had per- 
mitted him to join her, he had at once begun to speak 
of the one great object which dominated his existence, 
but she had earnestly entreated him not to do so. 

“It is such a pity/ 7 she had said, “for us never to 
talk of anything but that. There are so many things 
I like to talk about, especially the things of which I 
read. I am now reading Charles Lamb— that is, when- 
ever I get a chance— and I don’t believe anybody in 
these days ever does read the works of that dear old 
man. There is a complete set of his books in the 
library, and they do not look as if they had ever 
been opened. Did you ever read his little essays on 
Popular Fallacies? Some of them are just as true as 
they can be, although they seem like making fun, espe- 
cially the one about the angry man being always in the 
wrong. I am inclined to side with the angry man. I 
know I am generally right when I am angry.” 

238 


A STOP AT THE TOLL-GATE 


Mr. Hemphill had not read these little essays, nor 
had he admitted that he had never read anything else 
by Mr. Lamb ; but he had agreed that it was very 
common to be both angry and right. Then Olive had 
talked to him about other books, and his way had 
become very rough and exceedingly thorny, and he 
had wished he knew how to bring up the subject of 
some new figures in the German. But he had not 
succeeded in doing this. She had been in a bookish 
mood, and the mood had lasted until she had left 
him. 

How he began to think that it would be better for 
him to give up wandering and waiting and go into 
the library and prepare himself for another talk with 
Olive, but he did not go ; she might see him and sus- 
pect his design. He would wait until later. He took 
some books to his room. 

Dick Lancaster wandered and waited, but he was 
full of a purpose, although it was not exactly definite ; 
he wanted to find Mrs. Easterfield and ask her to re- 
lease him from his promise. He could not remain 
much longer at Broadstone, and Olive’s morning walk 
with Hemphill had made him very nervous. She 
knew that these young men were in love with her, 
and he had a right to let her know that he was also. 
It might be imprudent for him to do this, but he 
could not see why it would not be as imprudent 
at any other time as now. Moreover, there might 
come no other time, and he had control of now. 

Mrs. Easterfield had not joined her guests because 
of her anxiety about Olive. Mr. Easterfield did not 
appear. For a time he was very particularly engaged 
in the garden. Mr. Fox grew very much irritated. 

239 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


“I tell you, my dear,” said he, “every one who 
comes here makes this place more stupid and dull. I 
can’t see exactly any reason for it, but these lovers 
are at the bottom of it. I hate lovers.” 

“You should be very glad, my dear,” replied Mrs. 
Fox, “that I was not of your opinion in my early life.” 

But things changed for the better after a time. It 
is true that Mrs. Easterfield and Olive did not appear, 
but Mr. Easterfield showed himself, and did it with 
great advantage. The simple statement that his wife 
and Miss Asher had gone to make a call caused a 
feeling of relief to spread over the whole party. Until 
the callers returned there was no reason why they 
should not all enjoy themselves, and Mr. Easterfield 
was there to show them how to do it. 

As the Broadstone carriage rolled swiftly on 
there was not much conversation between its occu- 
pants. To the somewhat sensitive mind of Mrs. Eas- 
terfield it seemed that Olive was a little disappointed 
at the change of companions, but this may have been 
a mere fancy. The girl was so wrapped up in self- 
concentrated thought that it was not likely that she 
would have talked much to any one. Suddenly, how- 
ever, Olive broke out : 

“Mr. Easterfield must be a thoroughly good man ! ” 
she said. 

“He is,” assented the other. 

“And you have always been entirely satisfied with 
him?” 

“Entirely,” was the reply, without a smile. 

How Olive turned her face toward her companion 
and laid her hand upon her arm. “You ought to be 
a happy woman,” she said. 

240 


A STOP AT THE TOLL-GATE 


“Now, what is this girl thinking of? ” asked Mrs. 
Easterfield to herself. “Is she imagining that any 
one of the young fellows who are now besieging her 
can ever be to her what Tom is to me ? Or is she 
making an ideal of my husband to the disparagement 
of her own lovers ? Whichever way she thinks, she 
would better give up thinking.” 

But the somewhat sensitive Mrs. Easterfield need 
not have troubled herself. The girl had already for- 
gotten the good Mr. Tom and her mind was intent 
upon getting to her uncle. 

“Will you please ask the man to stop,” she said, 
“before he gets to the gate, and let me out? Then 
perhaps you will kindly drive on to the tollhouse and 
wait for me. I will not keep you waiting long.” 

The carriage stopped, and Olive slipped out, and, 
before Mrs. Easterfield had any idea of what she was 
going to do, the girl climbed the rail fence which 
separated the road from the captain’s pasture field. 
Between this field and the garden was a picket fence, 
not very high ; and, toward a point about midway 
between the little tollhouse and the dwelling, Olive 
now ran swiftly. When she had nearly reached the 
fence she gave a great bound ; put one foot on the 
upper rail to which the pickets were nailed ; and then 
went over. What would have happened if the sharp 
pales had caught her skirts might well be imagined. 
But nothing happened. 

“That was a fine spring ! ” said Mrs. Easterfield to 
herself. “She has seen him in the house, and wants 
to get there before he hears the carriage.” 

Olive walked quietly through the garden to the 
house. She knew that her uncle was not at the gate, 
241 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


for from afar she had seen that the little piazza on 
which he was wont to sit was empty. She went noise- 
lessly into the hall, and looked into the parlor. By a 
window in the back of the room she saw her uncle 
writing at a little table. With a rush of air she was 
at his side before he knew she was in the room. As 
he turned his head her arms were around his neck, 
and the pen in his hand made a great splotch of ink 
upon her white summer dress. 

“Now, uncle,” she exclaimed, looking into his as- 
tonished face, “here I am and here I am going to stay ! 
And if you want to know anything more about it, 
you will have to wait, for I am not going to make 
any explanations now. I am too happy to know that 
I have a dear uncle left to me in this world, and to 
know that we two are going to live together always, 
to want to talk about whys and wherefores.” 

“But, Olive ! ” exclaimed the captain. 

“There are no buts,” she interrupted. “Not a 
single but, my dear Uncle John ! I have come back to 
stay with you, and that is all there is about it. Mrs. 
Easterfield is outside in her carriage, and I must go 
and send her away. But don’t you come out, Uncle 
John ; I have some things to say to her, and I will let 
you know when she is going.” 

As Olive sped out of the room Captain Asher 
turned around in his chair and looked after her. 
Tears were running down his swarthy cheeks. He did 
not know how or why it had all happened. He only 
knew that Olive was coming back to live with him ! 

Meantime old Jane was entertaining Mrs. Easter- 
held at the toll-gate, where no money was paid, but a 
great deal of information gained. The old woman had 
242 


A STOP AT THE TOLL-GATE 


seen Miss Olive run into the house, and she was elated 
and excited, and consequently voluble. Mrs. Easterfield 
got the full account of the one-sided courtship of the 
captain and Miss Port. Even the concluding episode 
of Maria having been put to bed had somehow reached 
the ears of old Jane. It is really wonderful how secret 
things do become known, for not one of the three 
actors in that scene would have told it on any account. 
But old Jane knew it, and told it with great glee, to 
Mrs. Easterfield’s intense enjoyment. Then she pro- 
ceeded to praise Olive for the spirit she had shown 
under these trying circumstances ; and, in this connec- 
tion, naturally there came into the recital the spirit 
the old woman herself had shown under these same 
trying circumstances, and how she had got all ready 
to leave the minute the nuptial knot was tied and 
before that Maria Port could reach the toll-gate, 
although it was like tearing herself apart to leave the 
spot where she had lived so many years. “But,” she 
concluded, “it is all right now. The captain tells me 
it’s all a lie of her own makin’. She’s good at that 
business, and if lies was salable she’d be rich.” 

Just as the old woman reached this, what seemed 
to her unsophisticated mind, impossible business prop- 
osition, Olive appeared. Mrs. Easterfield was sur- 
prised to see her so soon, and, to tell the truth, a little 
disappointed. She had been greatly interested and 
amused by the old woman’s rapid tale, which she would 
not interrupt, but had put aside in her mind several 
questions to ask, and one of them was in relation to her 
husband’s late visit to the captain. She had had no 
detailed account from him, and she wondered how 
much this old body knew about it. She seemed to know 
243 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


pretty much everything. But Olive’s appearance put 
an end to this absorbing conversation. 

“Has you come to stay, dearie?” eagerly asked old 
Jane, as Olive grasped her hand. 

“To be sure I have, Jane ! I have come to stay 
forever ! ” 

“Thank goodness!” exclaimed the old woman. 
“How the captain will brighten up ! But my ! I must 
go and alter the supper ! ” 

“Mrs. Easterfield,” said Olive, when the old woman 
had departed, “you will have to go back without me. 
I cannot leave my uncle, and I am going to stay here 
right along. You must not think I am ungrateful to 
you, or unmindful of Mr. Easterfield’s great kindness, 
but this is my place for the present. Some day I 
know you will be good enough to let me pay you 
another visit.” 

“And what am I to do with all those young men? ” 
asked Mrs. Easterfield, mischievously. She would have 
added, “And one of them your future husband ? ” But 
she remembered the coachman. 

Olive laughed. “They will annoy you less when I 
am not there. If you will be so good as to ask your 
maid to pack up my belongings, I will send for my 
trunk.” She glanced at the coachman. “Would you 
mind taking a little walk with me along the road ? ” 

“I shall be glad to do so,” said Mrs. Easterfield, 
getting out of the carriage. 

“Now, my dear Mrs Easterfield,” said Olive, when 
they were some distance from the toll-gate and the 
house, “lam going to ask you to add to all your kind- 
ness one more favor for me.” 

“That has such an ominous sound,” said Mrs. Eas- 
244 


A STOP AT THE TOLL-GATE 


terfield, “that I am not disposed to promise before- 
hand.” 

“It is about those three young men you mentioned.” 

“I mentioned no number, and there are four.” 

“In what I am going to ask of you one of them can 
be counted out. He is not in the affair. Only three 
are in this business. W on’ t you be so good as to decline 
them all for me ? I know that you can do it better 
than I can. You have so much tact. And you must 
have done the thing many a time, and I have not done 
it once. I am very awkward ; I don’t know how ; and, 
to confess the truth, I have put myself into a pretty 
bad fix.” 

“Upon my word,” cried Mrs. Easterfield, “that is a 
pretty thing for one woman to ask of another ! ” 

“I know it is,” said Olive, “and I would not ask it 
of anybody but the truest friend— of no one but you. 
But you see how difficult it is for me to attend to it. 
And it must be done. I have given up all idea of 
marrying ; I am going to stay here, and when my 
father comes with his young lady he will find me set- 
tled and fixed, and he and she will have nothing to do 
with making plans for me. How, dear Mrs. Easter- 
field, I know you will do this favor for me, and let me 
say that I wish you would be particularly gentle and 
pleasant in speaking to Mr. Locker. I think he is 
really a very kind and considerate young man. He 
certainly showed himself that way. * I know you can 
talk so nicely to him that perhaps he will not mind 
very much. As for Mr. Hu Brant, you can tell him 
plainly that I have carefully considered his proposi- 
tion— and that is the exact truth— and that I find it will 
be wise for me not to accept it. He is a man of affairs, 
245 


THE CAPTAINS TOLL-GATE 


and will understand that I have given him a straight- 
forward, practical answer, and he will be satisfied. 
You must not be sharp with Mr. Hemphill, as I know 
you will be inclined to be. Please remember that I 
was once in love with him, and respect my feelings as 
well as his. Besides, he is good, and he is in earnest, 
and he deserves fair treatment. I am sorry that I have 
worried you about him, and I will tell you now that I 
have found out he would not do at all. I found it out 
this morning when I was talking to him about books. 
His mind is neither broad nor cultivated.” 

“I could have told you that,” said Mrs. Easterfield, 
“and saved you all the trouble of taking that walk by 
the river.” 

“And then there is one more thing,” continued Olive j 
“it is about Professor Lancaster. I am sure you will 
agree with me that it will not do for him to come back 
here. I am just going to start housekeeping again. 
I’ve got the supper on my mind this minute. Y ou can’t 
imagine how everything has turned topsy-turvy since 
I left. I suppose he will be wanting to go North, 
anyway. In fact, he told me so.” 

Mrs. Easterfield laughed. She did not believe that 
Mr. Lancaster would want to go North, or West, or 
East, although South might suit him. But she saw 
the point of Olive’s request 5 it would be awkward to 
have him at the tollhouse. 

“Oh, I will take care of him,” she said, “and he 
shall continue his vacation trip just as soon as Mr. 
Easterfield and I choose to give him up.” 

“You see,” said Olive in an explanatory way, “I 
have not anything in the world to do with him, but I 
thought he might want to come back to see uncle again. 

246 


A STOP AT THE TOLL-GATE 


And, really / 7 she added, speaking with a great deal 
of earnestness, “I don’t want to be bothered with any 
more young men ! And now I will call uncle. You 
know I had to say all these things to you immedi- 
ately.” 

Mrs. Easterfield walked quickly back to her car- 
riage, but she did not wait to see Captain Asher. As 
a hostess it was necessary for her to hurry back home ; 
and as a quick-witted, sensible woman she saw that it 
would be well to leave these two happy people to 
themselves. This was not the time for them to talk 
to her. So, when the captain, unwilling to wait any 
longer, appeared at the door of the house, these two 
dear friends had kissed and parted, and the carriage 
was speeding away. 

On her way home Mrs. Easterfield forgot her slight 
chagrin at what her husband had not done, in her joy 
at what he had accomplished. He had neglected to 
take her fully into his confidence, and had acted very 
much as if he had been a naval commander who had 
cut his telegraphic connections in order not to be em- 
barrassed by orders from the home government. But, 
on the other hand, he had saved her from the terrible 
shock of hearing Olive declare that she had just en- 
gaged herself to Rupert Hemphill. If it had not been 
for the extraordinary promptness of her good Tom— 
a style of action he had acquired in the railroad busi- 
ness— it would have been just as likely as not that Olive 
would have accepted that young man before she had 
had an opportunity of finding out his want of breadth 
and cultivation. 


247 


CHAPTER XXYII 


BY PROXY 

About half-past twelve Claude Locker made his 
appearance in the spacious hall. He looked out of the 
front door ; he looked out of the back door ; he peered 
into the parlor ; he glanced up the stairway ; and then 
he peeped into the library. He had not seen the lady 
of the house since her return, and he was waiting for 
Olive. This morning his fate was to be positively 
decided ; he would take a position that would allow 
of no postponement ; he would tell her plainly that a 
statement that she was not prepared to give him an 
answer that day would be considered by him as a final 
rejection. She must haul down her flag or he would 
surrender and present to her his sword. 

Claude Locker saw nothing of Miss Asher, but it 
was not long before the lady of the house came down- 
stairs. 

“Oh, Mr. Locker,” she exclaimed, “I am so glad to 
see you ! Come into the library, please.” 

He hesitated a minute. “I beg your pardon,” said 
he, “but I have an appointment—” 

“I know that,” said she, “and you may be surprised 
to hear that it is with me and not with Miss Asher. 
Come in and I will tell you about it.” 

248 


BY PROXY 


Claude Locker actually ran after his hostess into 
the library, both of his eyes wide open. 

“And now,” said she, “please sit down, and hear 
what I have to say.” 

Locker seated himself on the edge of a chair ; he did 
not feel happy ; he suspected something was wrong. 

“Is she sick f ” he asked. “Can’t she come down f ” 

“She is very well,” was the reply, “but she is not 
here. She is with her uncle.” 

“Then I am due at her uncle’s house before one 
o’clock,” said he. 

“No,” she answered, “you are due here.” 

He fixed upon her a questioning glance. 

“Miss Asher,” she continued, “has deputed me to 
give you her answer. She cannot come herself, but 
she does not forget her agreement with you.” 

The young man still gazed steadfastly. “If it is to 
be a favorable decision,” said he, “I hope you will 
be able to excuse any exuberance of demeanor on 
my part.” 

Mrs. Easterfield smiled. “In that case,” she said, 
“I do not suppose I should have been sent as an 
envoy.” 

His brow darkened, and instinctively he struck one 
hand with the other. “That is exactly what I ex- 
pected ! ” he exclaimed. “The signs all pointed that 
way. But until this moment, my dear madam, I hoped. 
Yes, I had presumed to hope that I might kindle in 
her heart a little flickering flame. I had tried to do 
this, and I had left but one small match head, which I 
intended to strike this day. But now I see I had a piece 
of the wrong end of the match. After this I must be 
content forever to stay in the cold.” 

249 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


“I am glad you view the matter so philosophically,” 
said Mrs. Easterfield, “and Olive particularly desired 
me to say—” 

“Don’t call her Olive, if you please,” he interrupted. 
“It is like speaking to me through the partly open 
door of paradise, through which I cannot enter. 
Slam it shut, I beg of you, and talk over the top of 
the wall.” 

“Miss Asher wants you to know,” continued Mrs. 
Easterfield, “that while she has decided to decline 
your addresses, she is deeply grateful to you for the 
considerate way in which you have borne yourself 
toward her. I know she has a high regard for you, 
and that she will not forget your kindness.” 

Mr. Locker put his hands in his pockets. “Do 
you know,” said he, “as this thing had to be done, I 
prefer to have you do it than to have her do it. 
Well, it is done now ! And so am I ! ” 

“You never did truly expect to get her, did you, 
Mr. Locker? ” asked Mrs. Easterfield. 

“Never,” he answered j “ but I do not flinch at what 
may be impossibilities. Nobody, myself included, 
can imagine that I shall rival Keats, and yet I am 
always trying for it.” 

“Is it Keats you are aiming at? ” she said. 

“Yes,” he replied $ “it does not look like it, does 
it? But it is.” 

“And you don’t feel disheartened when you fail?” 
said she. 

Mr. Locker took his hands from his pockets, and 
folded his arms. “Yes, I do,” he said ; “I feel as 
thoroughly disheartened as I do now. But I have one 
comfort ; Keats and Miss Asher dropped me ; I did 
250 


BY PROXY 


not drop them. So there is nothing on my conscience. 
And now, tell me, is she going to take Lancaster? I 
hope so.” 

“She could not do that,” answered Mrs. Easterfield, 
“for I know he has not asked her.” 

“Then he’d better skip around lively and do it,” 
said Mr. Locker, “not only for his own sake, but for 
mine. If I should be cast aside for the Hemphill 
clothes I should have no faith in humanity. I would 
give up verse, and I would give up woman.” 

“Don’t be afraid of anything like that,” said Mrs. 
Easterfield, laughing. “It may be somewhat of a 
breach of confidence, but I am going to tell you 
nevertheless— because I think you deserve it— that I 
am also deputed to decline the addresses of Mr. 
Hemphill, and Mr. Du Brant.” 

“Hurrah ! ” cried Locker. “Mrs. Easterfield, I 
envy you ; and if you don’t feel like performing the 
rest of your mission, you can depute it to me. I don’t 
know anything at this moment that would give me 
so much joy.” 

“I would not be so disloyal or so cruel as that,” 
said she. “But I shall not be in a hurry. I shall let 
them eat their lunch in peace and hope.” 

“Not much peace,” said he. “Her empty chair 
will put that to flight. I know how it feels to look 
at her empty chair.” 

“Then you really love her?” said Mrs. Easterfield, 
much moved. 

“With every fibre,” said he. 

Mrs. Easterfield found herself much embarrassed at 
the luncheon table. She had made her husband 
understand the state of affairs, but had not had time 
251 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


to enter into particulars with him, and she did not 
find it easy satisfactorily to explain to the company 
the absence of Miss Asher without calling forth em- 
barrassing questions as to her return, and she wished 
carefully to avoid telling them that her guest was 
not coming back for the present. If she made this 
known then she feared there might be a scene at the 
table. 

Mr. Hemphill turned pale when, that afternoon, 
his hostess, in an exceedingly clear and plain manner, 
made known to him his fate. For a few moments he 
did not speak. Then he said very quietly : “If she 
had not, of her own accord, told me that she had once 
loved me, I should never have dared to say anything 
like that to her.” 

“I do not think you need any excuse, Mr. Hemp- 
hill,” said Mrs. Easterfield. “In fact, if you loved 
her, I do not see how you could help speaking after 
what she herself said to you.” 

“That is true,” he replied. “And I love her with 
all my heart ! ” 

“She ought never to have told you of that girlish 
fancy,” said his hostess. “It was putting you in a 
very embarrassing position, and I am bound to say to 
you, Mr. Hemphill, that I also am very much to blame. 
Knowing all this, as I did, I should not have allowed 
you to meet her.” 

“Oh, don’t say that!” exclaimed Mr. Hemphill. 
“Don’t say that ! Hot for the world would I give up 
the memory of hearing her say she once loved me ! 
I don’t care how many years ago it was. I am glad 
you let me come here. I am glad she told me. I 
shall never forget the happiness I have had in this 
252 


BY PROXY 

house. And now, Mrs. Easterfield, let me ask you 
one thing—” 

At this moment Mrs. Easterfield, who was facing 
the door, saw her husband enter the hall, and by his 
manner she knew he was looking for her. 

“ Excuse me,” she said to Hemphill ; “I will be back 
in an instant.” 

And she ran out. “Tom,” she cried, “you must go 
away. I cannot see you now. I am very busy de- 
clining the addresses of a suitor, and cannot be inter- 
rupted.” 

Mr. Tom looked at her in surprise, although it was 
not often Mrs. Easterfield could surprise him. He saw 
that she was very much in earnest. 

“Well,” said he, “if you are sure you are going to 
decline him I won’t interrupt you. And when you 
have sealed his fate you will find me in my room. I 
want particularly to see you.” 

Mrs. Easterfield went back to the library and Hemp- 
hill continued : “You need not answer if you do not 
think it is right,” said he, “but do you believe at any 
time she thought seriously of me ? ” 

Mrs. Easterfield smiled as she answered : “Now 
you see the advantage of an agent in such matters as 
this. You could not have asked her that question, or 
if you did she would not answer you. And now I am 
going to tell you that she did have some serious 
thought of you. Whatever encouragement she gave 
you, she treated you fairly. She is a very practical 
young woman—” 

“Excuse me,” said Hemphill, hurriedly, “but if 
you please, I would rather you did not tell me any- 
thing more. Sometimes it is not well to try to know 
253 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


too much. I can’t talk now, Mrs. Easterfield, for I 
am dreadfully cut up, but at the same time I am 
wonderfully proud. I don’t know that you can 
understand this.” 

“Yes, I can,” she said; “I understand it per- 
fectly.” 

“You are very kind,” he said. As he was about 
to leave the room he stopped and turned to Mrs. Eas- 
terfield. “Is she going to marry Professor Lancas- 
ter?” he asked. 

“Keally, Mr. Hemphill,” she replied, “I cannot say 
anything about that. I do not know any more than 
you do.” 

“Well, I hope she may,” he said. “It would be 
a burning shame if she were to accept that Austrian ; 
and as for the other little man, he is too ugly. You 
must excuse me for speaking of your friends in this 
way, Mrs. Easterfield, but really I should feel dread- 
fully if I thought I had been set aside for such a 
queer customer as he is.” 

Mrs. Easterfield did not laugh then; but when 
Hemphill had gone, and she had joined her husband, 
they had a good time together. 

“And so they all recommend Lancaster,” said he. 

“So far,” she answered ; “but I have yet to hear 
what Mr. Du Brant has to say.” 

“I think you have had enough of this discarding 
business,” said Mr. Tom. “You would better leave 
Du Brant to me.” 

“Oh, no,” said she ; “I promised Olive. And, 
besides, I think I like it.” 

“I believe you do,” said Mr. Tom. “And now I 
want to say something important. It is not right that 
254 


BY PROXY 


Broadstone should be given up entirely to the affairs 
of Miss Asher and her lovers. I think, for instance, 
that our friend Fox looks very much dissatisfied.” 

“That is because Olive is not here,” she replied. 

“Not only that,” he answered. “He loses her, and 
does not get anything else in her place. Now, we 
must make this house lively, as it ought to be. Let 
Du Brant off for to-day and let us make up a party 
to go out on the river. We will take two boats, and 
have some of the men to do the rowing. Postpone 
dinner so we can have a long afternoon.” 

Mr. Du Brant did not go on the river excursion. 
He had some letters to write, and begged to be 
excused. He had not asked when Miss Asher was 
expected back, or anything about her return. He 
did not understand the state of affairs, and was afraid 
he might receive some misleading information. But 
if she should come that afternoon or the next day he 
determined to be on the spot. After that he might 
not be able to remain at Broadstone, and it would be 
a glorious opportunity for him if she should come 
back that afternoon. 

It was twilight when the boating party returned. 
Under the genial influence of Mr. Tom and his wife 
they had all enjoyed themselves as much as it was 
possible for them to do so without Olive. 

When Claude Locker, a little behind the others, 
reached the top of the hill, he perceived not far away 
Mr. Du Brant strolling. These two had not spoken 
since the night of the interrupted serenade. Each of 
them had desired to avoid words or actions which 
might disturb the peace of this hospitable home, and 
consequently had very successfully succeeded in 
255 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 

avoiding each other. But now Mr. Locker walked 
straight up to the secretary of legation, holding out 
his hand. 

“Now, Mr. Du Brant,” said he, “since we are both 
in the same boat, let us shake hands and let bygones 
be bygones.” 

But the young Austrian did not take the proffered 
hand. For a moment he looked as though he were 
about to turn away without taking any notice of 
Locker, but he had not the strength of mind to do 
this. He turned and remarked with a scowl : 

“What do you mean by same boat? I have noth- 
ing to do with you on the water or on the land ! ” 

Mr. Locker shrugged his shoulders. “So you have 
not been told,” said he. 

“Told ! ” exclaimed Du Brant, now very much in- 
terested. “ Told what ? ” 

“That you will have to find out,” said the other. 
“It is not my business to tell you. But I don’t mind 
saying that as I have been told I thought perhaps 
you might have been.” 

“Told what?” exclaimed Mr. Du Brant again, 
stepping up closer to the other. 

“Don’t shout so,” said Locker ; “they will think 
we are quarrelling. Didn’t I say I am not the person 
to tell you anything? And if you did not understand 
me I will say it again.” 

For some seconds the Austrian looked steadily at 
his companion. Then he said, “Have you been re- 
fused by Miss Asher ? ” 

“Well,” said Locker, with a sigh, “as that is my 
business, I suppose I can talk about it if I want to. 
Yes, I have.” 


256 


BY PROXY 


Again Du Brant was silent for a time. “Did she 
tell you herself ? ” he asked. 

“No, she did not,” was the answer. “She kindly 
sent me word by Mrs. Easterfield. I suppose your 
turn has not come yet. I was at the head of the 
list.” And, fearing that if he stayed longer he might 
say too much, Mr. Locker walked slowly away, whis- 
tling disjointedly as he went. 

That evening Mrs. Easterfield discovered that she 
had been deprived of the anticipated pleasure of con- 
veying to Mr. Du Brant the message which Olive had 
sent him. That gentleman, unusually polite and soft- 
spoken, found her by herself, and thus accosted her : 
“You must excuse me, madam, for speaking upon a 
certain subject without permission from you, but I 
have reason to believe that you are the bearer of a 
message to me from Miss Asher.” 

“How in the world did you find that out?” she 
asked. 

“It was the— Locker,” he answered. “I do not 
think it was his intention to inform me fully ; he is 
not a master of words and expressions j he is a little 
blundering : but, from what he said, I supposed you 
were kind enough to be the bearer of such a 
message.” 

“Yes,” said Mrs. Easterfield ; “not being able to be 
here herself, Miss Asher requested me to say to you 
that she must decline—” 

“Excuse me, madam,” he interrupted, “but it is 
I who decline. I bear toward you, madam, the great- 
est homage and respect, but what I had the honor to 
say to Miss Asher I said to her alone, and it is only 
from her that it is possible for me to receive an 
257 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


answer. Therefore, madam, it is absolutely necessary 
that I decline to be a party to the interview you so 
graciously propose. It breaks my heart, my dear 
madam, even to seem unwilling to listen to anything 
you might deign to say to me, but in this case I must 
be firm, I must decline. Can you pardon me, dear 
madam, for speaking as I have been obliged to 
speak?” 

“Oh, of course,” said Mrs. Easterfield. “And 
really, since you know so much, it is not necessary for 
me to tell you anything more.” 

“Ah,” said the diplomat, with a little bow and an 
incredulous expression, as if the lady could have no 
idea what he might yet know, “I am so much obliged 
to you ! I am so thankful ! ” 


258 


CHAPTER XXVIII 


HERE WE GO, LOVERS THREE ! 

The three discarded lovers of Broadstone— all dis- 
carded, although one of them would not admit it— 
would have departed the next day had not that day 
been Sunday, when there were no convenient trains. 
Mr. Du Brant was due in Washington $ Mr. Hemp- 
hill was needed very much at his desk, especially 
since Mr. Easterfield had decided to spend a few days 
with his wife ; and Claude Locker wanted to go. 
When he had finished the thing he happened to be 
doing it was his habit immediately to begin some- 
thing else. All was at an end between him and Miss 
Asher. He acknowledged this, and he did not wish 
to stay at Broadstone. But, as it could not be helped, 
they all stayed over Sunday. 

Mr. Easterfield planned an early afternoon expe- 
dition to a mission church in the mountains ; it 
would be a novel experience, and a delightful trip, 
and everybody must go. 

In the course of the morning Mr. Du Brant strolled 
in the eastern parts of the grounds, and Mr. Locker 
strolled over that portion of the lawn which lay to 
the west. Mr. Du Brant did not meet with any one 
with whom he cared to talk, but Mr. Locker was for- 
tunate enough to meet Miss Raleigh. 

259 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


“I am glad to see you,” said he ; “you are the per- 
son above all other persons I wish to talk to.” 

“It delights me to hear that,” said the lady, her face 
showing that she spoke the truth. 

“Let us go over there and sit down,” said he. “How, 
then,” he continued, “you were present, Miss Ealeigh, 
at a very peculiar moment in my life, a momentous 
moment, I may say. You enjoyed a privilege— if 
you consider it such— not vouchsafed to many mor- 
tals.” 

“I did consider it a privilege, you may be sure,” 
exclaimed Miss Ealeigh, “and I value it. You do not 
know how highly I value it ! ” 

“You heard me offer myself, body and soul, to the 
lady I loved. You were taken into our confidence, 
you saw me laid upon the table—” 

“Oh, dreadful ! ” cried the lady. “Don’t put it that 
way.” 

“Well, then,” said he, “you saw me postponed for 
future consideration. You promised you would re- 
gard everything you heard as confidential j by so doing 
you enabled me to speak when otherwise I might not 
have dared to do so. I am deeply grateful to you j 
and, as you already know so much about my hopes 
and my aspirations, I think it right you should know 
all there is to know.” 

The conscience of Miss Ealeigh stirred itself very 
vigorously within her, and her voice was much sub- 
dued as she said : 

“I am sure you are very good.” 

“Well, then,” said Locker, “the proposal you heard 
me make has been declined. I am discarded ; and 
not directly in a face-to-face interview, but through 
260 


HERE WE GO, LOVERS THREE! 


another by a message. It would have been incon- 
venient for Miss Asher personally to communicate the 
intelligence, so as Mrs. Easterfield was coming this 
way she kindly consented to convey the intelli- 
gence.” 

“I declare,” exclaimed Miss Raleigh, “I had not 
heard of that ! Mrs. Easterfield made me her confi- 
dant in the early stages of this affair, or, I should say, 
these affairs. But she has not told me that.” 

“She will doubtless give herself that pleasure later,” 
said Locker. 

“No,” said she, “she will not think any more about 
it. I am of no further use. And may I ask if you 
know anything about the two other gentlemen?” 

“Both turned down,” said Locker. 

“I might have supposed that,” answered the lady ; 
“for if Miss Asher would not take you she certainly 
would not be content with either of them.” 

“With all my heart I thank you,” said Locker, 
warmly. “Such words are welcome to a wounded 
heart.” 

For a moment Miss Raleigh was silent, then she 
remarked, “It is very hard to be discarded.” 

“You are right there ! ” exclaimed Locker. “But 
how do you happen to know anything about it ? ” 

“I have been discarded myself,” she answered. 

The larger eye of Mr. Locker grew still larger, the 
other endeavored to emulate its companion’s size ; and 
his mouth became a rounded opening. “Discarded ? ” 
he cried. 

“Yes,” said she. 

The countenance of the young man was now bright 
with interest and curiosity. “I don’t suppose it would 
261 


THE CAPTAIN'S TOLL-GATE 


be right to ask you / 7 said he, “even although I have 
taken you so completely into my confidence— but, 
never mind. Don’t think of it. Of course, I would 
not propose such a question . 77 

“Of course not , 77 said she ; “you are too manly for 
that . 77 And then she was silent again. Naturally she 
hesitated to reveal the secrets of her heart, and to a 
gentleman with whom her acquaintance was of such 
recent date ; but she earnestly wanted to repose confi- 
dence in another, as well as to receive it, and it was 
so seldom, so very seldom, that such an opportunity 
came to her. 

“I do not know , 77 she said, “that I ought to, but 
still - 77 

“Oh, don’t, if you don’t want to , 77 said Locker. 

“But I think I do want to,” she replied. “You are 
so kind, so good, and you have confided in me. Yes, 
I was once discarded, not exactly by word of mouth, 
or even by message, but still discarded.” 

“A stranger to me, of course,” said Locker, his whole 
form twisting itself into an interrogation-point. 

“No,” said she ; “and as I have begun I will go on. 
It was Mr. Hemphill.” 

“What ! 77 he exclaimed. “That — 77 

“Yes, it was he,” said she, speaking slowly and in 
a low voice. “He was Mr. Easterfield’s secretary and 
I was Mrs. Easterfield’s secretary, and, of course, we 
were thrown much together. He has very good quali- 
ties ; I do not hesitate now to say that ; and they 
impressed themselves upon me. In every possible 
way I endeavored to make things pleasant for him. 
I do not believe that when he was at work he ever 
wanted a glass of cold water that he did not find it 
262 


HERE WE GO, LOVERS THREE! 


within reach. I early discovered that he was very 
fond of cold water.” 

“A most commendable dissipation,” interrupted 
Locker. 

“He had no dissipations,” said Miss Raleigh. “His 
character was unimpeachable. In very many ways I 
was attracted to him, in very many ways I endeavored 
to make life pleasant for him ; and I am afraid that 
sometimes I neglected Mrs. Easterfield’s interests so 
that I might do little things for him, such as dusting, 
keeping his ink-pots full, providing fresh blotting- 
paper, and many other trifling services which devo- 
tion readily suggested.” 

Locker heaved a sigh of commiseration which she 
mistook for one of sympathy. 

“I will not go into particulars,” she continued, 
“ but at last he discovered that— well, I will be plain 
with you— he discovered that I loved him. Then, 
sir,— it is humiliating to me to say it, but I will not 
flinch,— he discarded me. He did not use words, but 
his manner was sufficient. Never again did I go near 
his desk, never did I tender him the slightest service. 
It was a terrible blow ! It was humiliating ! ” 

“ I should think so,” said Locker, “ from him ! ” 

“But I will say no more,” she remarked with a 
sigh. “I have told you what you have heard that 
you may understand how thoroughly I sympathize 
with you, for all is over with me in that direction, as 
I suppose all is over with you in your direction. And 
now I must go, for this long conference may be re- 
marked. But before I go, I will say that if ever 
you—” 

“Oh, no, no, no ! ” interrupted Locker, “it would 
263 


THE CAPTAINS TOLL-GATE 


not do at all ! I really have begun to believe that I 
was cut out for a bachelor.” 

“What ! ” said Miss Raleigh, with great severity. 
“Do you suppose, sir, that I—” 

“Not at all, not at all!” cried Locker. “Not for 
one moment do I suppose that you—” 

“If for one moment,” said she, “I had imagined 
you would suppose—” 

“But I assure you, Miss Raleigh, I never did sup- 
pose that you would imagine I would think— but if 
you do suppose I thought you imagined I could pos- 
sibly conceive—” 

“But I really did think,” said Miss Raleigh, speak- 
ing more gently. “But if I was wrong—” 

“Nay, think no more about it,” Locker interrupted, 
“and let us be friends again.” 

He offered her his hand, which she shook warmly, 
and then departed. 

It had been arranged that Lancaster was not to 
leave Broadstone on the next day. He had expected 
to do so, but Mr. Easterfield had planned for a day’s 
fishing for himself, Mr. Fox, and the professor, and he 
would not let the latter off. The ladies had accepted 
an invitation to luncheon that day $ the next day 
some new visitors were expected ; and in order not to 
interfere with Mr. Easterfield’s plans, evidently in- 
tended to restore to Broadstone some of the social 
harmony which had recently been so disturbed, Dick 
consented to stay, although he really wanted to 
go. He could not forget that his vacation was 
passing. 

“Very well, then,” Mrs. Easterfield remarked to 
him that Sunday evening 5 “if you must go on Tues- 
264 


HERE WE GO, LOVERS THREE! 


day, I suppose you must, although I think it would 
be better for you if I were to keep my eye on you 
for a little while longer.” 

“ Perhaps so,” said Lancaster, “but the time has 
come when curb-bits, cages, and good advice are not 
for me. I must burst loose from everything and go 
my way, right or wrong, whatever it may be.” 

“I see that,” said she ; “but if it had not been for 
the curbed bit and all that, you would be leaving this 
place a discarded lover, like the rest of them. They 
depart with their love-affairs finished forever, ended ; 
you go as free to woo, to win, or to lose as you ever 
were. And you owe this entirely to me ; so, whatever 
else you do, don’t sneer at my curbs and my cages ; 
to them you owe your liberty.” 

The professor fully appreciated everything she had 
done for him, and told her so earnestly and warmly. 
But she interrupted his grateful expressions. 

“It would have been very hard on me,” she said, 
“if Olive had asked me to carry to you the news of 
your rejection. That is what I did for the others, I 
suppose you know.” 

“Oh, yes,” said Lancaster ; “Locker told me.” 

“I might have supposed that,” said she. “And now 
I feel bound to tell you also, although it is not a 
message, that Olive does not expect to see you at her 
uncle’s house. She infers that you are going to con- 
tinue your vacation journey.” 

“I have made my plans for my journey,” said he, 
“and I do not think, Mrs. Easterfield, that you will 
care to have me talk them over with you.” 

“No, indeed,” she replied ; “I do not want to hear 
a word about them, but I am going to give you one 
265 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


piece of advice, whether you like it or not. Don’t be 
in a hurry to ask her to marry you. At this moment 
she does not want to marry anybody. Her position 
has entirely changed. She wanted to marry so that 
her plans might be settled before her father and his 
new wife arrived ; and now she considers that they are 
settled. So be careful. It is true that the objections 
she formerly had to you are removed, but before you 
ask her to marry you, you should seriously ask your- 
self what reason there is she should do so. She does 
not know you very well ; she is not interested in you ; 
and I am very sure she is not in love with you. Now 
you know, for I have told you so, that I would be 
delighted to see you two married. I believe you 
would suit each other admirably. But although you 
may agree with me in this opinion, I am quite sure 
she does not ; at least, not yet. Now, this is all I am 
going to say, except that you have my very best 
wishes that you may get her.” 

“I shall never forget that,” said he, “but I see I 
am not to be free from the memory, at least, of the 
curb and the cage.” 

After breakfast on Monday the three discarded 
lovers departed in a dog-cart, Mr. Du Brant in front 
with the driver, and Claude Locker and Hemphill 
behind. For some minutes the party was silent. If 
circumstances had permitted they would have gone 
separately. 

As long as he could see the mansion of Broadstone, 
Claude Locker spoke no word. When the time had 
come to go he had not wanted to go. When taking 
leave of Dick Lancaster he had congratulated that 
favored young man upon the fact that he had not 
266 


HERE WE GO, LOVERS THREE ! 

been rejected, and had assured him that if he had 
remained at Broadstone he would have done his best 
to back him up as he had said he would. 

Hemphill was not inclined to talk. Of course, 
Locker did not care to converse with the young 
diplomat, and consequently he found himself bored, 
and to relieve his feelings he burst into song. His 
words were impromptu, and although the verse was 
not very good, it was very impressive. It began as 
follows : 

“ Here we go, 

Lovers three, 

All steeped deep 
In miseree.” 

At this Mr. Hemphill turned and looked at him, 
while a deep grunt came from the front seat ; but the 
singer kept on without much attention to metre and 
none at all to tune : 

“ This is so— 

Here we go, 

Flabbergasted, 

Hopes all blasted, 

Flags half-masted, 

While it lasted, 

We poor—” 

“Look here,” cried Du Brant, turning round sud- 
denly, “I beg you desist that. You are insulting. 
And what you say is not true, as regards me at least. 
You can sing for yourself.” 

“Not true ! ” cried Locker. “Oh, ho, oh, ho ! Per- 
haps you have forgotten yourself, kind sir.” 

This little speech seemed to make Du Brant very 
angry, and he fairly shouted at Locker : “No, I 
267 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


haven’t forgotten myself, and I have not forgotten 
you ! You have insulted me before, and I should like 
to make you pay for it ! I should like to have satis- 
faction from you, sir ! ” 

“That sounds well,” cried Locker. “ Do you mean 
to fight? ” 

“I want the satisfaction due to a gentleman,” an- 
swered the young Austrian. 

“Good,” cried Locker ; “that would suit me exactly. 
It would brighten me up. Let’s do it now. I am not 
going to stop at Washington, and this is the only time 
I can give you. Driver, can we get to the station in 
time if we stop a little while ? ” 

The person addressed was a young negro who had 
become intensely interested in the conversation. 

“Oh, yes, sah,” he answered. “ We’ll git dar twenty 
minutes before de train does, and if you takes half an 
hour I can whip up. That train’s mostly late, any- 
way.” 

“All right,” cried Locker. “And now, sir, how shall 
we fight ? What have you got to fight with ? ” 

“This is folly,” growled Du Brant. “I have noth- 
ing to fight with. I do not fight with fists, like you 
Americans.” 

“Haven’t you a penknife?” coolly asked Locker. 
“If not, I dare say Mr. Hemphill will lend you one.” 

Du Brant now fairly trembled with anger. “When 
I fight,” said he, “I fight like a gentleman— with a 
sword or a pistol.” 

“I am sorry,” said Locker, “but if I remembered to 
bring my sword and pistol I must have put them in 
the bottom of my trunk, and that has gone on to the 
station. Have you two pistols or swords with you ? Or 
268 


HERE WE GO, LOVERS THREE! 


do you think you could get sufficient satisfaction out 
of a couple of piles of stones that we could hurl at 
each other? ” 

Du Brant made no English answer to this, but ut- 
tered some savage remarks in French. 

“Do you understand what all that means ? ” inquired 
Locker of Hemphill, who had been quietly listening 
to what had been going on. 

“Yes,” said the other ; “he is cursing you up hill 
and down dale.” 

“Oh,” said Locker, “it sounds to me as if he were 
calculating his last week’s expenses. But when he 
gets to French cursing, I drop him. I can’t fight him 
that way.” 

The colored boy now showed that he was very much 
disappointed. He had expected the pleasure of a fight, 
and he was afraid he was going to lose it. 

“I tell you, sah,” he said to Locker, “why don’t you 
try kick-shins? Do you know what kick-shins is? 
You don’t know what kick-shins is ? Well, kick-shins 
is this : One fellow stands in front of the other fellow, 
and one takes hold of the collar of the other fellow, and 
the other fellow takes hold of his collar, and then they 
kicks each other’s shins, and the one what squeals fust, 
he’s licked, and the other one gits the gal. You’ve got 
pretty thin shoes, sah,” addressing Du Brant, “and 
your feet ain’t half as big as hisn, but your toes is 
more p’inted.” 

“Ho kick-shins for me,” said Locker. “I’ve got to 
be economical about my clothes.” 

Du Brant’s rage now became ungovernable. “Do you 
apologize,” he cried, “or I take you by the throat, and 
I strangle you.” 


269 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


Hemphill, who had been smiling mildly at the kick- 
shin proposition, now turned himself about. “You 
will not do that,” he said, “and if you don’t sit quiet 
and keep your mouth shut, I’ll toss you out of this 
cart, and make you walk the rest of the way to the 
station.” 

As Hemphill looked quite big and strong enough to 
execute this threat, and as he was too quiet a man to be 
ignored, Du Brant turned his face to the horse, and 
said no more. 

“I did not know you were such a trump ! ” cried 
Locker. “Give me your hand. I should hate to be 
strangled by a foreigner ! ” 

When they took the train Du Brant went by himself 
into the smoking-car, and Locker and Hemphill had a 
seat together. 

“Do you know,” said Locker, “lam beginning to like 
you, although I must admit that before this morning I 
can remember no feeling of the sort.” 

“That is not surprising,” said Hemphill. “A man 
is not generally fond of his rival.” 

“We will let it go at that,” said Locker ; “we’ll let it 
go at that ! I should not wonder, if we had all stayed 
at Broadstone ; and if the central object of interest 
had also remained ; and, if I had failed, as I have 
failed, to make the proper impression ; and if the pro- 
fessor, whom I promised to back up in case I should 
find myself out of the combat, should also have failed : 
I should not wonder if I had backed up you.” 


270 


CHAPTER XXIX 


TWO PIECES OF NEWS 

It was nearly two weeks after Mrs. Easterfield drove 
away from the captain’s toll-gate before she went 
back there again. There were many reasons for thus 
depriving herself of Olive’s society. Mr. Tom had 
stayed with her for an unusually long time ; a house 
full of visitors, mostly relatives, had succeeded the 
departed lovers and Foxes ; and, besides, Olive was 
so very busy and so very happy— as she learned from 
many little notes— cleaning the house from garret to 
cellar, and loving her uncle better every day, that it 
really would have been a misdemeanor to interfere 
with her ardent pursuits. 

But now Olive had written that she wanted to tell 
her a lot of things which could not go into a letter, 
and so the Broadstone carriage stopped again at the 
toll-gate. 

Two great things had Olive to tell, and she was 
really glad that her uncle was not at home so that 
she might get at once to the telling. 

In the first place, old Mr. Port was dead, and Cap- 
tain Asher was in great trouble about this. Of course, 
he could not keep away from the deathbed of his old 
friend, nor could he neglect to do all honor to his 
memory, but it was a terrible thing for him to have 
271 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


to go into the house where Maria Port lived. After 
what had happened it was almost too much for his 
courage, although he was a brave man. But he had 
conquered his feelings, and he was there now. The 
funeral would be to-morrow. 

When Mrs. Easterfield heard all that Olive had to 
tell her about Maria Port, her heart went out to that 
brave man who kept the toll-gate. 

The next thing that Olive had to tell was that she 
had heard from her father, who wrote that he would 
soon arrive in this country ; that he would then go 
West, where he would marry Olive’s former school- 
mate ; and that, on their wedding tour, he would 
make a little visit at the tollhouse so that Olive 
might see her new mother. 

“Now, isn’t this enough,” cried Olive, “to make 
any girl spread her wings and fly to the ends of the 
earth ? But I have no wings 5 they have all gone 
away in a dog-cart. But I don’t feel about that as I 
used to feel,” she continued, a little hardness coming 
into her face. “I am settled now just the same as if 
I were married, and father and Edith Malcolmsen 
may come just as soon as they please. They shall 
make no plans for me j I am going to stay here with 
Uncle John. This house is mine now, and I am seri- 
ously thinking of having it painted. I shall stay 
here just as if I were one of those trees, and my father 
and my new mother—” 

Here tears came into Olive’s eyes and Mrs. Easter- 
field stopped her. 

“Olive,” said she, “I will give you a piece of ad- 
vice. When your father and his young wife come 
here, treat her exactly as if she were your old friend. 

272 


TWO PIECES OF NEWS 


If you do so I think you will get along very well. 
This is partly selfish advice, for I greatly desire the 
opportunity to treat your father hospitably. He was 
my friend when I was a girl, you remember, and I 
looked up to him with very great admiration.” 

And so these two friends sat and talked, and talked, 
and talked until it was positively shameful, consider- 
ing that the Broadstone horses were accustomed to 
be fed and watered at noon, and that the coachman 
was very hungry. 

When, at last, Mrs. Easterfield drove home, and it 
must have been three in the afternoon, she left Olive 
very much comforted, even in regard to the unfortu- 
nate obligations which had fallen upon her uncle. 
For now that her old father had gone, all intercourse 
with the Port woman would cease. 

But in her own mind Mrs. Easterfield was not so 
very much comforted. It was all well enough to 
talk about Olive and her uncle and the happiness and 
safety of the home he had given her, but that sort of 
thing could not last very long. He was an elderly 
man and she was a girl. In the natural course of 
events, she would probably be left alone while she 
was very young. She would then be alone, for her 
father’s wife could never be a mother to her when he 
was at sea, and their home would never be a home 
for her when he was on shore. What Olive wanted, 
in Mrs. Easterfield’s opinion, was a husband. An 
uncle, such as Captain Asher, was very charming, 
but he was not enough. 

During this pleasant afternoon, when Captain 
Asher was in town attending to some arrangements 
for the burial of Mr. Port, Miss Maria was sitting dis- 
273 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


creetly alone in lier darkened chamber. She had a 
great many things to think about, and if she had 
allowed her conscience full freedom of action, there 
would have been much more upon her mind. She 
might have been troubled by the recollection that 
since her father’s very determined treatment of her 
when she had endeavored to fix herself upon the af- 
fections of Captain Asher, she had so conducted her- 
self toward her venerable parent that she had actually 
nagged the life out of him ; and that had she been 
the dutiful daughter she ought to have been he 
might have been living yet. But thoughts of this 
nature were not common to Maria Port. She had 
made herself sure that the will was all right, and he 
was very old. There was a time for all things, and 
Maria was now about to begin life lor herself. To 
her plans for this new life she now gave almost her 
sole attention. 

She had one great object in view which overshad- 
owed everything else, and this was to marry Captain 
Asher. This she could have done before, she firmly 
believed, had it not been for her old father and that 
horrid girl, the captain’s niece. As for the elderly 
man who kept the toll-gate, she did not mind him. If 
not interfered with, she was sure she could make him 
marry her, and then the great ambition of her life 
would be satisfied. 

Unpretentious as was her establishment in town, 
she did not care to spend the money necessary to keep 
it up, and although she was often an unkind woman, 
she was not cruel enough to think of inflicting her- 
self as a boarder upon any housewife in the town. No, 
the toll-gate was the home for her $ and if Captain 
274 


TWO PIECES OF NEWS 


Asher chose to inflict himself upon her for a few years 
longer, she would try to endure it. 

One obstacle to her plans was now gone, and she 
must devote herself to the work of getting rid of the 
other one. While Olive Asher remained at the toll- 
house there was no chance for her in that quarter. 

The funeral was over, and when the bereaved Miss 
Port took leave of Captain Asher she exhibited a 
quiet gratitude which was very becoming and suitable. 
During the short time when he had visited the house 
every day she had showed him no resentment on 
account of what had passed between them, and had 
treated him very much as if he had been one of her 
father’s old friends with whom she was not very well 
acquainted and to whom she was indebted for various 
services connected with the sad occasion. 

When he took final leave of her he shook her hand, 
and as he did so he gave her a peculiar grasp which, 
in his own mind, indicated that he and she had now 
nothing more to do with each other, and that the 
acquaintance was adjourned without day. She bade 
him a simple farewell, and as he left the house she 
grinned at his broad back. This grin expressed, to 
herself at least, that the old and rather faulty acquaint- 
ance was at an end, and that the new connection which 
she intended to establish between herself and him 
would be upon an entirely different basis. 

He did not ask her if there was anything more that 
he could do for her, for he did not desire to mix him- 
self up with her affairs, which he knew she was emi- 
nently able to manage for herself, and it was with a 
deep breath of relief that he got into his buggy and 
drove home to his toll-gate. 

275 


CHAPTER XXX 


BY THE SEA 

When Lieutenant Asher and his bride arrived at 
his brother’s toll-gate they were surprised as well as 
delighted by the cordiality of their greeting. Each 
of them had expected a little stiffness during the first 
interview, but there was nothing of the kind, although 
young Mrs. Asher was bound to admit, when she took 
time to think upon the subject, that Olive treated her 
exactly as if she had been a dear old schoolmate, and 
not at all as her father’s wife. This made things very 
pleasant and easy at that time, she thought, although 
it might have to be corrected a little after a while. 

Things were all very pleasant, and there never had 
been so much talk at the tollhouse since the first stone 
of its foundation had been laid. The day after the 
arrival of the newly married couple Mrs. Easterfield 
called upon them, and invited the whole family to 
dinner. 

“I have never realized how much she must have 
thought of my parents ! ” said Olive to herself, as she 
gazed upon her father and Mrs. Easterfield. “They 
are so very glad to see each other ! ” 

She did not know that Lieutenant Asher had been 
to the present Mrs. Easterfield almost as much of a 
divinity as Mr. Hemphill had been to her girlish 
276 


BY THE SEA 


fancy ; the difference being that the young cadet was 
well aware of the adoration of this child, not yet in 
long dresses, and greatly enjoyed and encouraged it. 
When, a few years later, the child heard of his 
marriage, she had outgrown the love with the length- 
ening of the skirts. But she had a tender recollection 
of it which she cherished. 

The dinner the next day was a great success, and 
after it the lieutenant and Mrs. Easterfield earnestly 
discussed Olive when they had the opportunity for a 
tete-a-tete. She was so much to each of them, and he 
was grateful that his daughter had fallen under the 
influence of this old friend, now a charming woman. 

“She is so beautiful,” said the lady, “that she ought 
to be married as soon as possible to the most suitable 
bachelor in the United States.” 

“Not so fast! Not so fast!” said the lieutenant. 
“Edith and I are going to housekeeping very soon, 
and then we shall want Olive.” 

Mrs. Easterfield smiled, but made no reply. 

When the lieutenant and his wife, with Olive, came 
a few days afterwards to make their proper dinner 
call, he found an occasion to speak to their hostess. 

“Do you know,” said he, “that this is a strange girl 
of mine? She positively refuses to come and live 
with us. We had counted upon having her, and had 
made all our arrangements for it. She is as good and 
nice as she can be, but we cannot move her.” 

“You ought not to try,” said Mrs. Easterfield $ “it 
would be a shame for her to go away and leave her 
uncle. You have one young lady and you should not 
ask for both. Olive must marry, and the captain must 
go and live with her.” 


277 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


“Have you arranged all that ? ” said he. “I remem- 
ber you were a great schemer when quite a little girl.” 

“I am as great as ever,” said she. “And I have se- 
lected the gentleman.” 

“Oh, ho ! ” cried the lieutenant. “And is that all 
settled? Olive should have told me that.” 

“She could not do it,” said Mrs. Easterfield ; “for it 
is not all settled. There are some obstacles in the 
way, and the greatest of them is that she does not 
love him.” 

The lieutenant laughed. “Then that is settled. I 
know Olive.” 

Mrs. Easterfield flushed and then laughed. “I 
doubt that knowledge. It is certain you do not know 
me ! The young man loves her with all his heart ; 
there is no objection to him ; and I am most earnestly 
in favor of the match.” ; 

“Ah ! ” said the lieutenant, with a bow ; “if that is 
the case, I must get a pencil and paper and calculate 
what I can give her for her trousseau. I hope the 
wedding will not come off very soon, for I am de- 
cidedly short at present, on account of recent matri- 
monial expenses. Would you mind telling me his 
name ? Is he naval ? ” 

“Oh, no,” said she ; “he is pedagogy.” 

“What ! ” he cried, his eyes wide open. 

Then she laughed and told him all about Dick 
Lancaster. 

“Of course,” concluded Mrs. Easterfield, “I cannot 
ask you not to speak to anybody about what I have 
told you, but I do hope you will prevent its getting 
to Olive’s ears. I am afraid it would make a breach 
between us if she knew that I was trying to make 
278 


BY THE SEA 

a match for her. And yon see that is exactly what I 
am doing.” 

“And you are right,” said the lieutenant; “and 
what is more, I am with you ! You don’t know,” he 
added in a softer tone, “how grateful I am to you for 
your care of Olive now that my dear wife is gone ! ” 

For the moment he totally forgot that his dear wife 
had merely gone to the edge of the bluff with the 
captain and Olive to look at the river. 

That evening, as they sat together, Lieutenant 
Asher told his brother all that Mrs. Easterfield had 
confided to him about Dick Lancaster. The captain 
was delighted. 

“That is what I have wanted,” he said, “almost 
from the beginning, and I want it more than ever 
now. I am getting to be an old fellow, and I want 
to see her settled before I sail.” 

“You know, John,” said the lieutenant, “that I find 
Olive is a little more of a girl of her own mind than 
she used to be. I don’t believe she would rest quietly 
under the housekeeping of a girl so nearly her own 
age.” 

The captain gave some vigorous puffs. “I should 
think not ! ” he said to himself. “Olive would have 
that young woman swabbing the decks before they 
had been out three days ! You are right,” said he 
aloud, “but we must all look out that Olive does not 
hear anything about this.” 

It was not until they were continuing, their bridal 
trip that Lieutenant Asher considered the subject of 
mentioning Dick Lancaster to his wife. Then, after 
considering it, he concluded not to do it. In the first 
place, he knew that he was getting to be a little bit 
279 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


elderly, and he did not care about discussing the 
perfections of the young man who had been selected 
as a suitable partner for his wife’s school friend. This 
was all very foolish, of course, but people often are 
very foolish. 

Thus it was that Olive Asher never heard of the 
tripartite alliance between her father, her uncle, and 
her good friend at Broadstone. 

When Captain Asher learned, a few days after his 
brother had left, that the Broadstone family had gone 
to the seashore, he sat reflectively and asked himself 
if he were doing the right thing by Olive. The season 
was well advanced ; it was getting very hot at the 
toll-gate, and at many other gates in that region, and 
this navy girl ought to have a breath of fresh air. It 
is wonderful that he had not thought of it before ! 

At breakfast the next morning Olive stopped pour- 
ing coffee when he told her his plans to go to the sea. 

“With you, Uncle John ! ” she cried. “That would 
be better than anything in the world ! You sail a 
boat ? ” she asked inquiringly. 

“Sail a boat ! ” roared the captain. “I have a great 
mind to kick over this table ! My dear, I can sail a 
boat keel uppermost, if the water’s deep enough ! 
Sail a boat!” he repeated. “I sailed a catboat 
from Boston to Egg Harbor before your mother was 
born. By the way, you seem very anxious about boat- 
sailing. Are you afraid of the water? ” 

She laughed gaily. “I deserve that,” she said, “and 
I accept it. But perhaps I have done something that 
you never did. I have sailed a felucca.” 

“Very good,” said the captain ; “if there’s a felucca 
where we’re going you can sail me in one.” 

280 


BY THE SEA 


They went to a Virginia seaside resort, these two, 
and left old Jane in charge of the toll-gate. 

Early in the day after they arrived they went out 
to engage a boat. When they found one which suited 
the captain’s critical eye, he said to the owner thereof : 
“I will take her for the morning, but I don’t want 
anybody to sail me. I will do that myself.” 

“I don’t know about that,” said the man ; “when 
my boat goes out—” 

He stopped speaking suddenly and looked the 
captain over and over, up and down. “All right, 
sir,” said he. “And you don’t want nobody to manage 
the sheet f ” 

“Ho,” interpolated Olive ; “I’ll manage the sheet.” 

So they went out on the bounding sea. And as the 
wind whistled the hat off her head so that she had to 
fling it into the bottom of the boat, Olive wished that 
her uncle kept a toll-gate on the sea. Then she could 
go out with him and stop the little boats and the great 
steamers, and make them drop seven cents or thirteen 
cents into her hands as she stood braced in the stern ; 
and she was just beginning to wonder how she could 
toss up the change to them if they dropped her a 
quarter, when the captain began to sing Tom Bowling. 
He was just as gay -hearted as she was. 

It was about noon when they returned, for the cap- 
tain was a very particular man and he had hired the 
boat only for the morning. Olive had scarcely taken 
ten steps up the beach before she found herself shak- 
ing hands with a young man. 

“How on earth !” she exclaimed. 

“It was not on earth at all,” he said ; “I came by 
water. I wanted to find out if what I had heard of 
281 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


the horrors of a coastwise voyage were true ; and I 
found that it was absolutely correct.” 

“But here!” she exclaimed. “Why here? You 
could not have known ! ” 

“Of course not,” he answered ; “if I had known I 
am sure I would have felt that I ought not to come. 
But I didn’t know, and so you see I am as innocent as 
a butterfly. More innocent, in fact, for that little 
wagwings knows where he ought not to go, and he goes 
there all the same.” 

Captain Asher was still at the boat making some 
practical suggestions to her owner, who, being not yet 
forty, had many things to learn about the sails and 
rigging of a catboat. 

“Mr. Locker,” said Olive, looking at him very in- 
tently, “did you come here to renew any of your 
previous performances ? ” 

“As a serenader ? ” said he. “Oh, no. But perhaps 
you mean as a love-maker ? ” 

“That is it,” said Olive. 

Mr. Locker took off his hat and rubbed his head. 
“No,” said he, “I didn’t ; but I wish I could say I did. 
But that’s impossible. I presume I am right in as- 
suming this impossibility ? ” 

“Entirely,” said Olive. 

“And, furthermore, I truly didn’t know you were 
here. I think you may rest satisfied that that flame 
is out, although— By the way, I believe I could 
make some verses on that subject containing these 
lines : 


44 I do not want the flame, 
I better like the coal- 
282 


BY THE SEA 

meaning, of course, that I hope our friendship may 
continue.” 

She smiled. “ There are no objections to that,” 
she said. 

“ Perhaps not, perhaps not,” he said, clutching his 
chin with his hand ; “but some other lines come into 
my head. Of course, he didn’t want the coal to 
go out. 

“ He blew, too hard, 

The flame revived.” 

“That will do ! That will do !” cried Olive. “I 
don’t want any more of that poem.” 

“And the result of it all,” said he, “is only a burnt 
match.” 

“Nothing but a bit of charcoal,” added Olive. 

At this moment up came the captain. Olive had 
told him all about Mr. Locker, and he was not glad 
to see him. Olive noticed this, and she spoke quickly. 
“Here’s Mr. Locker, uncle ; he has dropped down 
quite accidentally at this place.” 

“Oh ! ” said the captain, incredulously. 

“You know he used to like me too much. But he 
knows me better now.” 

“Charming frankness of friendship !” said Locker. 

“And as I like him very much, I am glad he is 
here,” continued Olive. 

The young man bowed in gratitude, but Olive’s 
words embarrassed him somewhat, and he did not 
know exactly what would be suitable for him to say. 

So he took refuge in a change of subject. “Cap- 
tain,” said he, “can you fish?” 

A look of scornful amazement showed itself upon 
the old mariner’s face. “I have tried it,” said he. 

283 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


“And so have I,” cried Locker, “but I never had 
any luck in fishing and— some other things. I am 
vilely unlucky. I expect that’s because I don’t know 
how to fish.” 

“It is very likely,” said Olive, “that your bad luck 
comes from not knowing where to fish.” 

The young man took ofi* his hat and held it for a 
little while, although the sun was very hot. 

During the course of that afternoon and evening 
Captain Asher grew to like Claude Locker. The 
young man told such gravely comical stories, espe- 
cially about his experiences in boats and on the water, 
that the captain was very glad he had happened to 
drop down upon that especial watering-place. He 
wanted Olive to have some society besides his own, 
and a discarded lover was better than any other young 
man they might meet. He knew that Olive was a 
girl who would not go back on her word. 


284 


CHAPTER XXXI 


AS GOOD AS A MAN 

The next day onr three friends went fishing in a cat- 
boat belonging to the young seaman of forty, and they 
took their dinner with them, although Mr. Locker 
declared that he did not believe that he would want 
any. 

They had a good time on the water, for the captain 
had made careful inquiries about the best fishing- 
grounds, and the mishaps of Locker were so numerous 
and, so provocative of queer remarks from himself, that 
the captain and Olive sometimes forgot to pull up their 
fish, so preengaged were they in laughing. The sky 
was bright, the water smooth, and even Mr. Locker 
caught fish, although it might have been thought that 
he did everything possible to prevent himself doing so. 

When their boat ran up the beach late in the after- 
noon the captain and Olive were still laughing,andMr. 
Locker was as sober as a soda-water fountain from 
which spouts such intermittent sparkle. Dear as was 
the toll-gate, this was a fine change from that quiet 
home. 

The next morning, upon the sand, Claude Locker 
approached Olive. u Would you like to decline my 
addresses for the second time? ” he abruptly asked. 

285 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


“Of course not ! ” she exclaimed. 

“Well, then,” said he, extending his hand, “good- 
by ! ” 

“What are you talking about ? ” said Olive. “What 
does this mean?” 

“It means,” said he, “that I have fallen in love with 
you again. I think I am rather worse than I was 
before. If I stay here I shall surely propose. N othing 
can stop me,— not even the presence of your uncle if 
it is impossible for me to see you alone,— and, if you 
don’t want any of that, it is necessary that I go, and 
go quickly.” 

“Of course I don’t want it,” she said. “But why 
need you be so foolish? We were getting along so 
nicely as friends. I expected to have lots of fun here 
with you and uncle.” 

“Fun ! ” groaned Locker. “It might have been fun 
for you and the captain, but what of the poor torn 
heart? I know I must go, and now. If I stay here 
five minutes longer I shall be at your feet, and it will 
be far better if I take to my own. Good-by ! ” And, 
with a warm grasp of her hand, he departed. 

Olive looked after him as he walked to the hotel. 
If he had known how much she regretted to see him go 
he would have come back, and all his troubles would 
have begun again. 

“Hello ! ” cried the captain when Locker had en- 
tered the house, “I was looking for you. We can run 
out and have some fishing this morning. The tide will 
suit. You did so well yesterday that I think to-day I 
can even teach you to take out a hook.” 

“Take out a hook? ” said Locker. “I have a hook 
within me which no man in this world, and but one 
286 


AS GOOD AS A MAN 


woman, can take out. And as this she must not even 
be asked to do, I go. Farewell ! ” 

“ What’s the matter with the young man?” asked 
the captain of Olive a little later. 

“Oh, he has fallen in love with me again,” said 
Olive, with a sigh, “and, of course, that spoils every- 
thing. I wish people could be more sensible.” 

The captain looked down upon her admiringly. “I 
don’t see any hope for people,” he said. And this 
was the first personal compliment he had ever paid his 
niece. 

When Claude Locker had gone, Olive missed him 
more than she thought she could miss anybody. Much 
of the life seemed to have gone out of the place, and 
the captain’s high spirits waned as if he was suffering 
from the depression which follows a stimulant. 

“If that young fellow had been better-looking,” said 
the captain, “if he had more solid sense, and a good 
business, with both his eyes alike, I might have been 
more willing to let him go.” 

“If he had been all that,” asked Olive, with a smile, 
“why shouldn’t you have been willing to let him 
stay ? ” 

The captain did not answer. ~No matter what young 
Locker might have been, he could never have been 
Dick Lancaster. 

“Uncle,” said Olive that afternoon, “where shall we 
go next?” 

“I don’t know,” said he, “but let’s go to-morrow. 
I don’t believe I like so many strangers except when 
they pay toll.” 

They travelled about a good deal, and in a general 
way enjoyed themselves ; but they were both old trav- 
287 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


ellers, and mere novelty was not enough for them. Each 
loved the company of the other, but each would have 
liked to have Locker along. It grieved Olive to think 
that she wanted him, or anybody, but she would not 
even try to deceive herself. The weather grew cooler, 
and she said to her uncle : “Let us go back to the toll- 
gate ; it must be perfectly beautiful there now, with 
the mountains putting on their gold and red.” 

So they started for home, planning for a stop in 
Washington on their way. 

Brightness and people were coming back to Wash- 
ington. The air was cooler, and city life was stirring. 
Olive and her uncle stayed several days longer than 
they had intended ; as most people do who visit Wash- 
ington. On one of these days, as they were returning 
to their hotel from the Smithsonian grounds, where 
they had been looking at autumn leaves from all quar- 
ters of this wide land, many of them unknown to 
them, they looked with interest from the shaded 
grounds on one side of the street to the great public 
building on the other side, which they were then 
passing, and at the oroad steps ascending from the 
sidewalk to the basement floor. 

As they moved on thus slowly they noticed a man 
standing upon the upper steps of one of these stairs. 
His back was toward them; and as their eyes fell 
upon him he stepped upon the upper sidewalk. He 
was walking with a cane which seemed to be rather 
short for him. He stood still for a moment, and ap- 
peared to be waiting for some one. Then suddenly 
his whole frame thrilled with nervous action ; he 
slightly lowered his head, and, in an instant, he 
brought his cane to his shoulder, as if it had been a 
288 


AS GOOD AS A MAN 

gun. The captain had seen that sort of thing before. 
It was an air-gun. Without a word he made a dash 
at the man. He was elderly, but in a case like this 
he was swift. As he ran he glanced out in the direc- 
tion in which the gun was aimed. Along the broad, 
sunlighted avenue a barouche was passing. On the 
back seat sat two gentlemen, well dressed, erect. Even 
in a flash one would notice an air of dignity in their 
demeanor. 

There was not time to strike down the weapon, but 
before the man had heard steps behind him the cap- 
tain gave him a tremendous blow between the shoul- 
ders which staggered him, and spoiled his aim. Then 
the captain seized the air-gun. There was a whiz, and 
a click on the pavement. Then the man turned. 

His black eyes flashed out of a swarthy face nearly 
covered with beard ; his soft hat had fallen off when 
the captain struck him, and his black hair stood up like 
bristles on a shoe-brush. He was not a large man j he 
wore a loose woollen jacket ; his sleeves were short, and 
his hands were hairy. 

All this Olive saw, for she had been quick to follow 
her uncle ; but the captain, who firmly held the air-gun, 
saw nothing but the glaring face of a devil. 

The man jerked furiously at the gun, but the cap- 
tain’s grasp was too strong. Then the fellow released 
his hold upon the gun, and, with a savage fury, threw 
himself upon the older man. The two stood near the 
top of the steps, and the shock of the attack was so 
great that both fell, slipping down several of the stone 
steps. 

Olive tried to scream, but in her fright her voice 
utterly left her. She could not make a sound. As 
289 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


they lay upon the steps, the captain beneath, the man 
seized his victim by the neck with both hands, pressing 
his great thumbs deeply into his throat. Apparently 
he did not notice Olive. All the efforts of his devilish 
soul were bent upon stifling the voice and the life out 
of the witness of his attempted crime. Olive sprang 
down and stood over the struggling men. Her uncle’s 
eyes stared at her, and seemed bursting from his head. 
His face was growing dark. Again Olive tried to 
scream $ and, in a frenzy, she seized the man to pull 
him from the captain. As she did so her hand fell 
upon something protruding under his woollen jacket. 
With a quick flash of instinct her sense of feeling 
recognized this thing. She jerked up the jacket, and 
there was the stock of a pistol protruding from his 
hip pocket. In an instant Olive drew it. 

A horrid sound issued from the mouth of Captain 
Asher j he was choking to death. In the same second 
that she heard it Olive thrust the muzzle of the pistol 
against the side of the man’s head and pulled the 
trigger. 

The man’s head fell forward and his hairy hands 
released their grip, but they still remained at the cap- 
tain’s throat. The latter gave a great gasp, and for an 
instant he turned his eyes full upon the face of his 
niece. Then his lids closed. 

How there were footsteps, and looking up, Olive 
saw a negro cabman in faded livery and an old silk 
hat, who stood staring. Before she could speak to 
him there came another man, a policeman, who, equally 
amazed, stared at the group below him. Only these 
two had heard the pistol shots. There were no other 
people passing on the avenue, and as it was past 
290 


AS GOOD AS A MAN 

office hours there was no one in the great public 
building. 

Until they reached the top of the steps the police- 
man and cabman could see nothing. Now they stood 
astounded as they stared down upon an elderly man 
lying on his back on the steps ; another man, apparently 
lifeless, lying on top of him with his hands upon his 
throat ; and a girl standing a little below them with a 
smoking pistol in her hand. 

Before they had time to speak or move Olive called 
out, “Take that man off my uncle.” 

In a moment the policeman, followed by the negro, 
ran down the steps and pulled the black -headed man 
off the captain, and the limp body slipped down several 
steps. 

The policeman now turned toward Olive. “Take 
this,” she said, handing him the pistol. “I shot him. 
He was trying to kill my uncle.” 

The two men raised the captain to a sitting posi- 
tion. He was now breathing, though in gasps, with his 
eyes opened. 

The policeman took the pistol, looked at it, then at 
Olive, then at the captain, and then down at the body 
on the steps. He was trying to get an idea of what 
had happened without asking. If the negro had not 
been present he might have asked questions, but this 
was an unusual situation, and he felt his responsibility 
and his importance. Olive now stepped toward 
him, and in obedience to her quick gesture he bent 
his head, and she whispered something to him. 
Instantly he was quivering with excitement. He 
thrust the pistol into his pocket, and turned to 
the negro. “Run,” said he, “and get your cab ! 

291 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


Don’t say a word to a soul and I will give you five 
dollars.” 

The moment the negro had departed Olive said : 
“Pick up that air-gun. There, on the upper step.” 
Then she went to her uncle and sat down by him. 

“Are you hurt? ” she said. “Can you speak? ” 

The captain put his arm around her shoulder, fix- 
ing a loving look upon her, and murmured, “You are 
as good as a man ! ” 

The policeman picked up the air-gun, and gazed 
upon it as if it had been a telegram in cipher from a 
detective. Then he tried to conceal it under his coat, 
but it was too long. 

“Let me have it,” said Olive ; “I will put it be- 
hind me.” 

She had barely concealed it when the cab drove up. 

“Now,” said the policeman, “you two must go 
with me. Can you walk, sir ? ” 

“Oh, yes,” said the captain, in a voice clear but 
weak. 

Olive rose, holding the air-gun behind her, and the 
policeman and the cabman helped the captain to the 
carriage. Olive followed, and the policeman, actuated 
by some strong instinct, did not look around to see if 
she were doing so. He had no more idea that she 
would run away than that the stone steps would 
move. When he saw that she had taken the air-gun 
into the carriage with her, he closed the door. 

“Did your fall hurt you, uncle?” said Olive, look- 
ing anxiously into his face. 

“My throat hurts dreadfully,” he said, “and I’m 
stiff. But I’ll be stiffer to-morrow.” 

The policeman picked up the hat of the black- 
292 


AS GOOD AS A MAN 


haired man, and going down the steps, he placed it 
on his head. “Now help me up with this gentle- 
man,” he said to the cabman ; “we must put him on 
the box-seat between us. Take him under the arms, 
and we’ll carry him naturally. He must be awfully 
drunk ! ” 

So they lifted him up the steps, and, after much 
trouble, got him on the box-seat. Fortunately they 
were both big men. Then they drove away to police 
headquarters. The officer was the happiest police- 
mau in Washington. This was the greatest piece of 
work he had known of during his service ; and he 
was doing it all himself. With the exception of the 
driver, nobody else was mixed up in it in the least 
degree. What he was doing was not exactly right ; 
it was not according to custom and regulation. He 
should have called for assistance, for an ambulance ; 
but he had not, and his guardian angel had kept all 
foot-passengers from the steps of the public building. 
He did not know what it all meant, but he was doing 
it himself, and if that black driver should slip from 
his seat (of which he occupied a very small portion) 
and he should break his neck, the policeman would 
clutch the reins, and be happier than any man in 
Washington. 

There were very many people who looked at the 
drunken man who was being carried off by the police- 
man, but the cabman drove swiftly, and gave such 
people very little opportunity for close observation. 


293 


CHAPTER XXXII 


THE STOCK-MARKET IS SAFE 

There was a great stir at the police station, but 
Olive and her uncle saw little of it. They were 
quickly taken to private rooms, where the captain 
was attended by a police surgeon. He had been 
bruised and badly treated, but his injuries were not 
serious. 

Olive was put in charge of a matron, who wondered 
greatly what brought her there. Very soon they were 
examined separately, and the tale of each of them 
was almost identical with that of the other ; only 
Olive was able to tell more about the two gentlemen 
in the barouche, for she had been at her uncle’s side, 
and there was nothing to obstruct her vision. 

When the examination was ended the police captain 
enjoined each of them to say no word to any living 
soul about what they had testified to him. This was 
a most important matter, and it was necessary that 
it be hedged around with the greatest secrecy. 

When Olive retired to her plain but comfortable 
cot she was tired and weak from the reaction of her 
restrained emotions, but she did not immediately go 
to sleep for thinking that she had killed a man. And 
yet for this killing there was not in this girl’s mind 
294 


THE STOCK-MARKET IS SAFE 


one atom of regret. She was so grateful that she had 
been there, and had been enabled to do it. She had 
seen her uncle almost at his last gasp, and she had saved 
him from making that last gasp. Moreover, she 
had saved the life of the man who had saved the most 
important life in the land. She knew the face of the 
gentleman in the barouche who sat on the side nearest 
her ; she knew what her uncle had done, and she was 
proud of him ; she knew what she had done for him ; 
and she regarded the black-haired man with the 
hairy hands no more than she would have regarded 
a wild beast who had suddenly sprung upon them. 
She thought of him, of course, with horror, but her 
feelings of thankfulness for her uncle’s safety were 
far too strong. At last her grateful heart closed her 
eyes and let her rest. 

There were no letters found on the body of the 
black -haired man which gave any clew to his name ; 
but there were papers which showed that he was 
from southern France ; that he was an anarchist ; that 
he was in this country upon a mission ; and that 
he had been for two weeks in Washington, waiting 
for an opportunity to fulfil that mission. Which 
opportunity had at last shown itself in front of 
him just as Captain John Asher rushed up behind him. 

This information was so important that extraordi- 
nary methods were pursued. Communications were 
immediately made with the State Department, and 
with the higher police authorities ; and it was quickly 
determined that, whatever else might be done, the 
strictest secrecy must be enforced. The coroner’s 
jury was carefully selected and earnestly admonished 5 
and, early the next morning, when the captain and 
295 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


Olive were required to testify before it, they were 
made to understand how absolutely necessary it was 
they should say nothing except to answer the ques- 
tions which were asked them. The coroner was 
eminently discreet in regard to his questions $ and 
the verdict was that Olive was acting in her own 
defence as well as that of her uncle when she shot his 
assailant. 

Among the officials whose positions enabled them 
to know all these astonishing occurrences it was 
unanimously agreed that, so far as possible, every- 
body should be kept in ignorance of the crime which 
had been attempted, and of the deliverance which 
had taken place. 

Very early the next afternoon the air was filled 
with the cries of newsboys, and each paper that these 
boys sold contained a full and detailed account of a 
remarkable attempt by an unknown foreigner upon 
the life of Captain John Asher, a visitor in Washing- 
ton, and the heroic conduct of his niece, Miss Olive 
Asher, who shot the murderous assailant with his own 
pistol. There were columns and columns of this story, 
but, strange to say, in not one of the papers was there 
any allusion to the two gentlemen in the barouche, 
or to the air-gun. 

How this most important feature of the occurrence 
came to be omitted in all the accounts of it can only 
be explained by those who thoroughly understand 
the exigencies of the stock-market, and the probable 
effect of certain classes of news upon approaching 
political situations, and who have made themselves 
familiar with the methods by which the pervasive 
power of the press is sometimes curtailed. 

296 


THE STOCK-MARKET IS SAFE 

In the later afternoon editions there were portraits 
of Olive and her uncle. Olive was broad-shouldered, 
with black hair and a determined frown, while the 
captain was a little man with a long beard. There 
were no portraits of the anarchist. He passed away 
from the knowledge of man, and no one knew 
even his name ; his crime had blotted him out ; his 
ambition was blotted out; even the evil of his 
example was blotted out. There was nothing left 
of him. 

When they were released from detention the cap- 
tain and Olive quickly left the station— which they 
did without observation— and entered a carriage 
which was waiting for them a short distance away. 
The fact that another carriage with close-drawn cur- 
tains had stopped at the station about ten minutes 
before, and that a thickly veiled lady (the matron) 
and an elderly man with his collar turned up and his 
hat drawn down (one of the police officers in plain 
clothes) had entered the carriage and had been 
driven rapidly away, had drawn off the reporters and 
the curiosity-mongers on the sidewalk and had con- 
tributed very much to the undisturbed exit of Cap- 
tain and Miss Asher. 

These two proceeded leisurely to the railroad sta- 
tion, where they took a train which would carry them 
to the little town of Glenford. Their affairs at the 
hotel could be arranged by telegram. There were 
calls at that hotel during the rest of the day from 
people who knew Olive or her uncle ; calls from peo- 
ple who wanted to know them ; calls from people 
who would be contented even to look at them ; calls 
from autograph hunters who would be content sim- 
297 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


ply to send up their cards ; quiet calls from people 
connected with the government ; and calls from eager 
persons who could not have told anybody what they 
wanted. To none of these could the head clerk give 
any satisfaction. He had not seen his guests since 
the day before, and he knew naught about them. 

When Miss Maria Port heard that that horrid girl, 
Olive Asher, had shot an anarchist, she stiffened her- 
self to her greatest length, and let her head fall on 
the back of her chair. She was scarcely able to call 
to the small girl who endured her service to bring 
her some water. “Now all is over,” she groaned, 
“for I can never marry a man whose niece’s hands 
are dripping with blood. She will live with him, of 
course, for he is just the old fool to allow that, and 
anyway there is no other place for her to go except 
the almshouse— that is, if they’ll take her in.” And 
at the terrified girl, who tremblingly asked if she 
wanted any more water, she threw her scissors. 

The captain and his niece arrived early in the day 
at Glenford station. The captain engaged a little 
one-horse vehicle which had frequently brought 
people to the toll-gate, and informed the driver that 
there was no baggage. The man, gazing at Olive 
but scarcely daring to raise his eyes to her face, pro- 
ceeded with solemn tread toward his vehicle as if he 
had been leading the line in a funeral. 

As they drove through the town they were obliged 
to pass the house of Miss Maria Port. The door was 
shut, and the shutters were closed. She had had a 
terrible night, and had slept but little, but hearing 
the sound of wheels upon the street, she had bounced 
298 


THE STOCK-MARKET IS SAFE 


out of bed and had peered through the blinds. When 
she saw who it was she cursed them both. 

“That was the only thing/’ she snapped, “that 
could have kept me from gettin’ him ! So far as I 
know, that was the only thing ! ” 

When old Jane received the travellers at the toll- 
gate she warmly welcomed the captain, but she trem- 
bled before Olive. If the girl noticed the demeanor 
of the old woman, she pretended not to do so, and, 
speaking to her pleasantly, she passed within. 

“Will they hang her?” she said to the captain 
later. 

“What do you mean?” he shouted. “Have you 
gone crazy ? ” 

“The people in the town said they would,” replied 
old Jane, beginning to cry a little. 

The captain looked at her steadily. “Did any 
particular person in the town say that ? ” 

“Yes, sir,” she answered ; “Miss Maria Port was the 
first to say it, so I’ve been told.” 

“She is the one who ought to be hanged ! ” said the 
captain, speaking very warmly. “As for Miss Olive, 
she ought to have a monument set up for her. I’d do 
it myself if I had the money.” 

Old Jane answered not, but in her heart she said : 
“But she killed a man ! It is truly dreadful ! ” 

By nightfall of that day the two hotels of Glenford 
were crowded, the visitors being generally connected 
with newspapers. On the next day there was a great 
deal of travel on the turnpike, and old Jane was kept 
very busy, the captain having resigned the entire 
business of toll-taking to her. Everybody stopped, 
asked questions, and requested to see the captain ; 

299 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


and many drove through and came back again, hop- 
ing to have better luck next time. But their luck 
was always bad $ old Jane would say nothing, and the 
captain and Olive were not to be seen. The gate to 
the little front garden was locked, and there was 
no passing through the tollhouse. To keep people 
from getting over the fence a bulldog, which the 
captain kept at the barn, was turned loose in the 
yard. 

There were men with cameras who got into the 
field opposite the toll-gate, and who took views from 
up and down the road, but their work could not be 
prevented, and Olive and her uncle kept strictly in- 
doors. 

It was on the afternoon of the second day of siege 
that the captain, from an upper window, discovered a 
camera on three legs standing outside of his grounds 
at a short distance from the house. A man was 
taking sight at something at the back of the house. 
Softly the captain slipped down into the back yard, 
and looking up he saw Olive sitting at a window 
reading. 

With five steps the captain went into the house and 
then reappeared at the back door with a musket in 
his hand. The man had stepped to his pack at a 
little distance to get a plate. The captain raised his 
musket to his shoulder ; Olive sprang to her feet at 
the sound of the report ; old Jane in the tollhouse 
screamed j and the camera flew into splinters. 

After this there were no further attempts to take 
pictures of the inmates of the house at the toll-gate. 

After two days of siege the newspaper reporters and 
the photographers left Glenford. They could not 
300 


THE STOCK-MARKET IS SAFE 


afford to waste any more time. But they carried 
away with them a great many stories about the cap- 
tain and his erratic niece, mostly gleaned from a very 
respectable elderly lady of the town by the name of 
Port. 


301 


CHAPTER XXXIII 


DICK LANCASTER DOES NOT WRITE 

On the third morning after their arrival at the toll- 
gate the captain and Olive ventured upon a little walk 
over the farm. It was very hard upon both of them 
to be shut up in the house so long. They saw no 
reporters, nor were there any men with cameras, but 
the scenery was not pleasant, nor was the air particu- 
larly exhilarating. They were not happy ; they felt 
alone, as if they were in a strange place. Some of the 
captain’s friends in the town came to the toll-gate, but 
there were not many, and Olive saw none of them. 
The whole situation reminded the girl of the death of 
her mother. 

As soon as it was known that the Ashers were at home 
there came letters from many quarters. One of these 
was from Mrs. Easterfield. She would be at Broad- 
stone as soon as she could get her children started from 
the seashore. She longed to take Olive to her heart, 
but whether this was in commiseration or commenda- 
tion was not quite plain to Olive. The letter concluded 
with this sentence : “ There is something behind all 
this, and when I come you must tell me.” 

Then there was one from her father in which he 
bemoaned what had happened. “That such a thing 
302 


DICK LANCASTER DOES NOT WRITE 


should have come to my daughter ! ” he wrote. “To 
my daughter ! ” There was a great deal more of it, 
but he said nothing about coming with his young wife 
to the toll-gate, and Olive’s countenance was almost 
stern when she handed this letter to her uncle. 

Claude Locker wrote : “How I long, how I rage to 
write to you, or to go to you ! But if I should write, 
it would be sure to give you pain, and if I should go to 
you I should also go crazy. Therefore, I will merely 
state that I love you madly ; more now than ever be- 
fore ; and that I shall continue to do so for the rest of 
my life, no matter what happens to you, or to me, or to 
anybody. 

“Ever turned toward you, 

“Claude Locker. 

“How I wish I had been there with a sledge-ham- 
mer ! ” 

And then there were the newspapers. Many of these 
the captain had ordered by the Glenford bookseller, 
and a number were sent by friends, and some even by 
strangers. And so they learned what was thought of 
them over a wide range of country, and this publicity 
Olive found very hard to bear. It was even worse 
than the deed she was forced to do, and which gave 
rise to all this disagreeable publicity. That deed was 
done in the twinkling of an eye, and was the only thing 
that could be done ; but all this was prolonged torture. 
Of course, the newspapers were not responsible for 
this. The transaction was a public one in as public a 
place as could possibly be selected, and it was clearly 
their duty to give the public full information in regard 
303 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


to it. They knew what had happened, and how could 
they possibly know what had not happened? Nor 
could they guess that this was of more importance than 
the happening. And so they all viewed the action from 
the point of view that a young woman had blown out 
a man’s brains on the steps of the Treasury. It was 
a most unusual, exciting, and tragic incident, and, in a 
measure, incomprehensible ; and coming at a time when 
there was a dearth of news, it was naturally much ex- 
ploited. Many of the papers recognized the fact that 
Miss Asher had done this deed to save her uncle’s life, 
and applauded it, and praised her quick-wittedness 
and courage ; but all this was spoiled for Olive by the 
tone of commiseration for her in which it was all stated. 
She did not see why she should be pitied. Rather 
should she be congratulated that she was, fortunately, 
on the spot. Other journals did not so readily give in 
to the opinion that it was an act of self-defence. It 
might be so j but they expressed strong disapproval of 
the legal action in this strange affair. A young woman, 
accompanied by a relative, had killed an unknown 
man. The action of the authorities in this case had 
been rapid and unsatisfactory. The person who had 
fired the fatal shot and her companion had been cleared 
of guilt upon their own testimony, and the cause of the 
man who died had no one to defend it. If two per- 
sons can kill a man, and then state to the coroner’s jury 
that it was all right, and thereupon repair to their 
homes without further interference by the law, then 
had the cause of justice in the capital of the nation 
reached a very strange pass. 

Such were the views of the reputable journals. But 
there were some which fell into the captain’s hands 
304 


DICK LANCASTER DOES NOT WRITE 


that were well calculated to arouse his ire. Such a 
sensational occurrence did not often come in their way, 
and they made the most of it. They scented the idea 
that the girl had killed an unknown man to save her 
uncle’s life ; blamed the authorities severely for not 
finding out who he was ; suggested there must be a 
secret reason for this ; and hinted darkly at a scandal 
connected with the affair, which, if investigated, would 
be found to include some well-known names. 

“This is outrageous ! ” cried the captain. “It is too 
abominable to be borne ! Olive, why should we not 
tell the exact facts of this thing ? We did agree— very 
willingly at the time— to keep the secret. But I am 
not willing now, and you are being sacrificed to the 
stock-market. That is the whole truth of it ! If these 
editors knew the truth, they would be chanting your 
praises. If that scoundrel had killed me, he would 
have killed you, and then he could have run away to 
go on with his President-shooting. I am going to 
W ashington this very day to tell the whole story. Y ou 
shall not suffer that stocks may not fall and the polit- 
ical situation made alarming at election time. That is 
what it all means, and I won’t stand it ! ” 

“You will only make things worse, uncle,” said 
Olive. “Then the whole matter will be stirred up 
afresh. We will be summoned to investigations, and 
all sorts of disagreeable things. Every item of our 
lives will be in the papers, and some will be invented. 
It is very bad now, but in a little while the public 
will forget that a countryman and a country girl had 
a fracas in Washington. But the other thing will 
never be forgotten. It is very much better to leave 
it as it is.” 


305 


THE CAPTAIN S TOLL-GATE 


The captain, notwithstanding the presence of a 
lady, cursed the officials, the newspapers, the govern- 
ment, and the whole country. “I am going to do 
it!” he cried vehemently. “I don’t care what hap- 
pens ! ” 

But Olive put her arms around him and coaxed 
him for her sake to let the matter rest. And, finally, 
the captain grumblingly assented. 

If Olive had been a girl brought up in a gentle- 
minded household, knowing nothing of the varied 
life she had lived when a navy girl ; sometimes at 
this school and sometimes at that $ sometimes in her 
native land, and sometimes in the midst of frontier 
life ; sometimes with parents, and sometimes without 
them ; and had she been less aware, from her own 
experiences and those of others, that this is a world 
in which you must stand up very stiffly if you do not 
want to be pushed down ; she might have sunk, at 
least for a time, under all this publicity and blame. 
Even the praise had its sting. 

But she did not sink. The liveliness and the fun 
went out of her, and her face grew hard and her 
manner quiet. But she was not quiet within. She 
rebelled against the unfairness with which she was 
treated. No matter what the newspapers knew or 
did not know, they should have known, and should 
have remembered, that she had saved her uncle’s life. 
If they had known more they would have been just 
and kind enough no doubt, but they ought to have 
been just and kind without knowing more. 

Captain Asher would now read no more papers. 
But Olive read them all. ) 

Letters still came $ one of them from Mr. Easter- 
306 


DICK LANCASTER DOES NOT WRITE 


field. But every time a mail arrived there was a dis- 
appointment in the toll-gate household. The captain 
could scarcely refrain from speaking of his disap- 
pointment, for it was a true grief to him that Dick 
Lancaster had not written a word. Of course, Olive 
did not say anything upon the subject, for she had 
no right to expect such a letter, and she was not sure 
that she wanted one, but it was very strange that a 
person who surely was, or had been, somewhat in- 
terested in her uncle and herself should have been 
the only one among her recent associates who showed 
no interest whatever in what had befallen her. Even 
Mr. and Mrs. Fox had written. She wished they had 
not written, but, after all, stupidity is sometimes bet- 
ter than total neglect. 

“ Olive,” said the captain one pleasant afternoon, 
“suppose we take a drive to Broadstone? The family 
is not there, but it may interest you to see the place 
where I hope your friends will soon be living again. 
I cannot bear to see you going about so dolefully. I 
want to brighten you up in some way.” 

“I’d like it,” said Olive, promptly. “Let us go to 
Broadstone.” 

At that moment they heard talking in the toll- 
house ; then there were some quick steps in the gar- 
den ; and, almost immediately, Dick Lancaster was in 
the house and in the room where the captain and his 
niece were sitting. He stepped quickly toward them 
as they rose, and gave Olive his left hand because the 
captain had seized his right and would not let it go. 

“I have been very slow getting here,” he said, 
looking from one to the other. “But I would not 
write, and I have been unconscionably delayed. I am 
307 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


so proud of you ! ” he said, looking Olive full in the 
face, but still holding the captain by the hand. 

Olive’s hand had been withdrawn, but it was very 
cheering to her to know that some one was proud of 
her. 

The captain poured out his delight at seeing the 
young professor— the first near friend he had’ seen 
since his adventure, and, in his opinion, the best. Olive 
said but little, but her countenance brightened won- 
derfully. She had always liked Mr. Lancaster, and 
now he showed his good sense and good feeling ; for, 
while it was evidently on his mind, he made no allu- 
sion to anything they had done, or that had happened 
to them. He talked chiefly of himself. 

But the captain was not to be repressed, and his 
tone warmed up a little as he asked if Dick had been 
reading the newspapers. 

At this Olive left the room to make some arrange- 
ments for Mr. Lancaster’s accommodation. 

Seizing this opportunity, Dick Lancaster stopped 
the captain, who he saw was preparing to go lengthily 
into the recent affair. “Yes, yes,” he said, speaking 
quickly, “and my blood has run hot as I read those 
beastly papers. But let me say something to you 
while I can. I am deeply interested in something 
else just now. I came here, captain, to propose mar- 
riage to your niece. Have I your consent? ” 

“Consent!” cried the captain. “Why, it is the 
dearest wish of my heart that you should marry 
Olive ! ” And seizing the young man by both arms, 
he shook him from head to foot. “Consent ! ” he ex- 
claimed. “I should think so, I should think so ! Will 
she take you, Dick ? Is that—” 

308 


DICK LANCASTER DOES NOT WRITE 


“I don’t know,” said Lancaster, “I don’t know. I 
am here to find out. But I hear her coming.” 

The happy captain thought it full time to go away 
somewhere. He felt that he could not control his 
glowing countenance, and that he might say or do 
something which might be wrong. So he departed 
with great alacrity, and left the two young people to 
themselves. 


309 


CHAPTER XXXIY 


MISS PORT PUTS IN AN APPEARANCE 

The captain clapped on his hat, and walked up the 
road toward Glenford. He was very much excited 
and he wanted to sing, but his singing days were over, 
and he quieted himself somewhat by walking rapidly. 
There was a buggy coming from town, but it stopped 
before it reached him and some one in it got out, 
while the vehicle proceeded slowly onward. The 
some one waited until the captain came up to her. It 
was Miss Maria Port. 

“How do you do? ” she said, holding out her hand. 
“I was on my way to see you.” 

The captain put both his hands in his pockets, and 
his face grew somewhat dark. “Why do you want to 
see me ? ” he asked. 

She looked at him steadily for a moment, and then 
answered, speaking very quietly. “I found that Mr. 
Lancaster had arrived in town, and had gone to your 
house, and that he was in such a hurry that he walked. 
So I immediately hired a buggy to come out here. I 
am very glad I met you.” 

“But what in the name of common sense,” ex- 
claimed the captain, “did you come to see me for? 
What difference does it make to you whether Mr. 
310 


MISS PORT PUTS IN AN APPEARANCE 


Lancaster is here or not? What have yon got to (lo 
with me and my affairs, anyway? ” 

She smiled a smile which was very qniet and flat. 
“Now, don’t get angry,” she said. “We can talk over 
things in a friendly way just as well as not, and it will 
be a great deal better to do it. And I’d rather talk 
here in the public road than anywhere else ; it’s more 
private.” 

“I don’t want a word to say to you,” said the cap- 
trin, preparing to move on. “I have nothing at all 
to do with you.” 

“Ah,” said Miss Port, with another smile, “but I 
think you have. You’ve got to marry me, you know.” 

Then the captain stopped suddenly. HeJ opened 
his mouth, but he could find no immediate words. 

“Yes, indeed,” said Miss Port, now speaking quietly ; 
“and when I saw Mr. Lancaster had come to town, 
I knew that I must see you at once. Of course, he 
has come to take away your niece, and that’s the best 
thing to be done, for she wouldn’t want to keep on 
livin’ here where so many people have known her. 
At first I thought that would be a very good thing, 
for you would be separated from her, and that’s what 
you need and deserve. Young men are young men, 
and they are often a good deal kinder than they 
would be if they stopped to think. But a person of 
mature age is different. He would know what is due to 
himself and his standing in society. At least, that is 
what I did think. But it suddenly flashed on me that 
they might want to get away as quick as they could— 
which would be proper, dear knows— and it would 
be just like you to go with them. And so I came 
right out.” 


311 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


The captain had listened to all this because he very- 
much wanted to know what she had to say, but now 
he exclaimed : “Do you suppose I shall pay any atten- 
tion to all the gossip about my affairs ? ” 

“Now, don’t go on like that,” said Miss Port $ “it 
doesn’t do any good, and if you’ll only keep quiet, 
and think pleasantly about it, there will be no trouble 
at all. You know you’ve got to marry me ; that’s set- 
tled. Everybody knows about it, and has known about 
it for years. I didn’t press the matter while father 
was alive because I knew it would worry him. But 
now I’m going to do it. Not in any anger or bad 
feelin’, but gently, and as firmly as if I was that tree. 
I don’t want to go to any law, but if I have to do it, 
I’ll do it. I’ve got my proofs and my witnesses, and 
I’m all right. The people of your own house are wit- 
nesses. And there are ever so many more.” 

“Woman!” cried the captain, “don’t you say 
another word ! And don’t you ever dare to speak to 
me again ! I’m not going away, and my niece is not 
going away ; and I assure you that I hate and despise 
you so much that all the law in the world couldn’t make 
me marry you. Although you know as well as I do 
that all you’ve been saying has no sense or truth in it.” 

Miss Port did not get angry. With wonderful self- 
repression she controlled her feelings. She knew that 
if she lost that control there would be an end to every- 
thing. She grew pale, but she spoke more gently than 
before. “You know”— she was about to say “John,” 
but she thought she would better not— “that what I 
say about determination and all that, I simply say be- 
cause you do not come to meet me half-way, as I 
would have you do. All I want is to get you to ac- 
312 


MISS PORT PUTS IN AN APPEARANCE 


knowledge my rights, to defend me from ridicule. You 
know that I am now alone in the world, and have no 
one to look to but you, — to whom I always expected to 
look when father died,— and if you should carry out 
your cruel words, and should turn from me as if I was 
a stranger and a nobody, after all these years of visitin’ 
and attention from you, which everybody knows about, 
and has talked about, I could never expect anybody 
else— you bein’ gone— to step forward—” 

At this the face of the captain cleared, and as he 
gazed upon the unpleasant face and figure of this 
weather-worn spinster, the idea that any one with mat- 
rimonial intentions should “step forward,” as she put 
it, struck him as being so extremely ludicrous that he 
burst out laughing. 

Then leaped into fire every nervelet of Miss Maria 
Port. “Laugh at me, do you?” cried she. “I’ll give 
you something to laugh at ! And if you’re going to 
stand up for that thing you have in your house, that 
murderess — ” 

She said no more. The captain stepped up to her 
with a smothered curse, so that she moved back, fright- 
ened. But he did nothing. He was too enraged to 
speak. She was a woman, and he could not strike her 
to the ground. Before her sallow venom he was help- 
less. He was a man and she was a woman, and he 
could do nothing at all. He was too angry to stay 
there another second, and, without a word, he left her, 
walking with great strides toward the town. 

Miss Maria Port stood looking after him, panting a 
little, for her excitement had been great. Then, with 
a yellow light in her eyes, she hurried toward her 
vehicle, which had stopped. 

313 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


As Captain Asher strode into town he asked him- 
self over and over again what should he do? How 
should he punish this wildcat— this ruthless creature, 
who spat venom at the one he loved best in the world, 
and who threatened him with her wicked claws ? In 
his mind he looked from side to side for help ; some 
one must fight his battle for him $ he could not fight a 
woman. He had not reached town when he thought of 
Mrs. Faulkner, the wife of the Methodist minister. 
He knew her ; she and her husband had been among 
the friends who had come out to see him ,• and she was 
a woman. He would go directly to her, and ask her 
advice. 

The captain was not shown into the parlor of the 
parsonage, but into the minister’s study, that gentle- 
man being away. He heard a great sound of talking 
as he passed the parlor door, and it was not long before 
Mrs. Faulkner came in. He hesitated as she greeted 
him. 

“You have company,” he said, “but can I see you 
for a very few minutes ? It is important.” 

“Of course you can,” said she, closing the study 
door. “Our Dorcas Society meets here to-day, but 
we have not yet come to order. I shall be glad to 
hear what you have to say.” 

So they sat down, and he told her what he had to 
say, and as she listened she grew very angry. When 
she heard the epithet which had been applied to 
Olive she sprang to her feet. “The wretch ! ” she 
cried. 

“Now, you see, Mrs. Faulkner,” said the captain, “I 
can do nothing at all myself, and there is no way to 
make use of the law ; that would be horrible for Olive, 
314 


MISS PORT PUTS IN AN APPEARANCE 


and it could not be done ; and so I have come to ask 
help of you. I don’t see that any other man could do 
more than I could do.” 

Mrs. Faulkner sat silent for a few minutes. “I am 
so glad you came to me,” she said presently. “I have 
always known Miss Port as a scandal-monger and a 
mischief-maker, but I never thought of her as a wicked 
woman. This persecution of you is shameful, but when 
I think of your niece it is past belief ! You are right, 
Captain Asher ; it must be a woman who must take 
up your cause. In fact,” said she after a moment’s 
thought, “it must be women. Yes, sir.” And as she 
spoke her face flushed with enthusiasm. “I am going 
to take up your cause, and my friends in there, the 
ladies of the Dorcas Society, will stand by me, I know. 
I don’t know what we shall do, but we are going to 
stand by you and your niece.” 

Here was a friend worth having. The captain was 
very much affected, and was moved with unusual 
gratitude. He had been used to fighting his own bat- 
tles in this world, and here was some one coming for- 
ward to fight for him. 

There came upon him a feeling that it would be a 
shame to let this true lady take up a combat which she 
did not wholly understand. He made up his mind in 
an instant that he would not care what danger might 
be threatened to other people, or to trade, or to society ; 
he would be true to this lady, to Olive, and to him- 
self. He would tell her the whole story. She should 
know what Olive had done, and how little his poor 
girl deserved the shameful treatment she had received. 

Mrs. Faulkner listened with pale amazement ; she 
trembled from head to foot as she sat. 

315 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


“And you must tell no one but your husband,” 
said the captain. “This is a state secret, and he 
must promise to keep it before you tell.” 

She promised everything. She would be so proud 
to tell her husband. 

When the captain had gone, Mrs. Faulkner, in a 
very unusual state of mind, went into the parlor, 
took the chair, and putting aside all other business, 
told to the eagerly receptive members the story of 
Miss Port and Captain Asher. How she had perse- 
cuted him, and maligned him, and of the shameful 
way in which she had spoken of his niece. But not 
one word did she tell of the story of the two gentle- 
men in the barouche, and of the air-gun. She was 
wild to tell everything, but she was a good woman. 

“How, ladies,” said Mrs. Faulkner, “in my opinion, 
the thing for us to do is to go to see Maria Port ; tell 
her what we think of her ; and have all this wicked- 
ness stopped.” 

Without debate it was unanimously agreed that 
the president’s plan should be carried out. And 
within ten minutes the whole Dorcas Society of 
eleven members started out iu double file to visit the 
house of Maria Port. 


316 


CHAPTER XXXY 


THE DORCAS ON GUARD 

Miss Port had not been home very long and was up 
in her bedroom, which looked out on the street, when 
she heard the sound of many feet, and, hurrying to 
the window, and glancing through the partly open 
shutters, she saw that a company of women were 
entering the gate into her front yard. She did not 
recognize them, because she was not familiar with 
the tops of their hats ; and besides, she was afraid she 
might be seen if she stopped at the window $ so she 
hurried to the stairway and listened. There were 
two great knocks at the door,— entirely too loud,— 
and when the servant-maid appeared she heard a 
voice which she recognized as that of Mrs. Faulkner 
inquiring for her. Instantly she withdrew into her 
chamber and waited, her countenance all alertness. 

When the maid came up to inform her that Mrs. 
Faulkner and a lot of ladies were down-stairs, and 
wanted to see her, Miss Port knit her brows and shut 
her lips tightly. She could not connect this visit of 
so many Glenford ladies with anything definite ; and 
yet her conscience told her that their business in some 
way concerned Captain Asher. He had had time to 
see them, and now they had come to see her ,* prob- 
317 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


ably to induce her to relinquish her claims upon 
him. As this thought came into her mind she grew 
angry at their impudence, and, seating herself in a 
rocking-chair, she told the servant to inform the 
ladies that she had just reached home, and that it 
was not convenient for her to receive them at 
present. 

Mrs. Faulkner sent back a message that, in that 
case, they would wait ; and all the ladies seated them- 
selves in the Port parlor. 

“The impudence ! ” said Miss Port to herself; “but 
if they like waitin’, they can wait. I guess they’ll 
get enough of it ! ” 

So Maria Port sat in her room and the ladies sat in 
the parlor below ; and they sat, and they sat, and they 
sat, and at last it began to grow dark. 

“I guess they’ll be wantin’ their suppers,” said 
Maria, “but they’ll go and get them without seein’ 
me. It’s no more convenient for me to go down now 
than when they first came.” 

There had been, and there was, a great deal of con- 
versation down in the parlor, but it was carried on in 
such a low tone that, to her great regret, Miss Port 
could not catch a word of it. 

“Now,” said Mrs. Pilsbury, “I must go home, for 
my husband will want his supper and the children 
must be attended to.” 

“And so must I,” said Mrs. Barney and Mrs. Sloan. 
They would really like very much to stay and see 
what would happen next, but they had families. 

“Ladies,” said Mrs. Faulkner, “of course we can’t 
all stay here and wait for that woman ; but I propose 
that three of us shall stay and that the rest shall go 
318 


THE DORCAS ON GUARD 


home. I’ll be one to stay. And then, in an hour 
three of you come back, and let us go and get our 
suppers. In this way we can keep a committee here 
all the time— all night, if necessary. When I come 
back I will bring a candlestick and some candles, 
for, of course, we don’t want to light her lamps. If 
she should come down while I am away, I’d like 
some one to run over and tell me. It’s such a little 
way.” 

At this the ladies arose, and there was a great 
rustling and chattering, and the face of Miss Maria, 
in the room above, gleamed with triumph. 

“I knew I’d sit ’em out,” said she ; “they haven’t 
got the pluck I’ve got.” But when the servant came 
up and told her that “three of them ladies was a-sittin’ 
in the parlor yet and said they was a-goin’ to wait for 
her,” she lost her temper. She sent down word that 
she didn’t intend to see any of them, and she wanted 
them to go home. 

To this Mrs. Faulkner replied that they wished to 
see her, and that they would stay. And the commit- 
tee continued to sit. 

Now Miss Port began to be seriously concerned. 
“What in the world could these women want? They 
were very much in earnest ; that was certain. Could 
it be possible that she had said more than she intended 
to Captain Asher, and that she had given him to 
understand that she would use any of these women as 
witnesses if she went to law? However, whatever 
they meant, she intended to sit them out. So she 
told her maid to make her some tea and to bring it 
up with some bread and butter and preserves, and a 
light. She also ordered her to be careful that the 
319 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


people in the parlor should see her as she went up- 
stairs. “I guess they’ll know I’m in earnest when 
they see the tea,” she said. “I’ve set out a mess of 
’em, and it won’t take long to finish up them 
three ! ” 

She partook of her refreshments, and she reclined 
in her rocking-chair and waited for the hungry ones 
below to depart. “I’ll give ’em half an hour,” said 
she to herself. 

Before that time had elapsed she heard another 
stir below, and she exclaimed : “I knew it ! ” and 
there were steps in the hallway, and some people 
went out. She sprang to her feet; she was about 
to run down-stairs and lock and bolt every door ; 
but a sound arrested her. It was the talking of 
women in the parlor. She stopped, with her mouth 
wide open, and her eyes staring, and then the servant 
came up and told her that “them three had gone, and 
that another three had come back, and they had 
told her to say that they were goin’ to stay in squads 
all night till she came down to see them.” 

Miss Port sat down, her elbows on the table and 
her chin in her hands. “It must be something seri- 
ous,” she thought. “The ladies of this town are not 
in the habit of staying out late unless it is to nurse 
bad cases, or to sit up with corpses.” And then the 
idea struck her that probably there might be some- 
thing the matter that she had not thought of. She 
had caused lots of mischief in her day, and it might 
easily be that she had forgotten some of it. But the 
more she thought about the matter, the more firmly 
she resolved not to go down and speak to the women. 

She would like to send for a constable and have 
320 


THE DORCAS ON GUARD 


them cleared out of the house, but she knew that none 
of the three constables in town would dare to use force 
with such ladies as Mrs. Faulkner and the members 
of the Dorcas Society. 

So she sat and waited, and listened, and grew very 
nervous, but was more obstinate now than ever, for she 
was beginning to be very fearful of what those women 
might have to say to her. She could “talk down one 
woman, but not a pack of ’em.” Thus time passed 
on, with occasional reports from the servant until the 
latter fell asleep and came up-stairs no more. There 
were sounds of footsteps in the street, and Miss Port 
put out her light and went to the front shutters. 
Three women were coming in. They entered the 
house, and in a few minutes afterward three women 
went out. Miss Port stood up in the middle of the 
floor, and was almost inclined to tear her hair. 

“They’re goin’ to stay all night ! ” she exclaimed. 
“I really believe they’re goin’ to stay all night ! ” 
For a moment she thought of rushing down-stairs and 
confronting the impertinent visitors, but she stopped ; 
she was afraid. She did not know what they might 
say to her, and she went to the banisters and listened. 
They were talking, always in a low voice. It seemed 
to her that these people could talk forever. Then she 
began to think of her front door, which was open ; 
but, of course, nobody could come while those crea- 
tures were in the parlor. But if she missed anything 
she’d have them brought up in court if it took every 
cent she had in the world and constables from some 
other town. She slipped to the back stairs, and 
softly called the servant, but there was no answer. 
She was afraid to go down, for the back door of the 
321 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


parlor commanded all the other rooms on that floor. 
Now she felt more terribly lonely and more nervous. 
If she had had a pistol she would have fired it through 
the floor. Then those women would run away, and 
she would fasten up the house. But there they sat, 
chatter, chatter, chatter, till it nearly drove her mad. 
She wished now she had gone down at first. 

After a time, and not a very long time, there were 
some steps in the street and in the yard, and more 
women came into the house ; but, worse than that, the 
others stayed. Family duties were over now, and 
those impudent creatures could be content to stay 
the rest of the evening. 

For a moment the worried woman felt as if she 
would like to go to bed and cover up her head and 
so escape these persistent persecutors. But she shook 
her head. That would never do. She knew that 
when she awoke in the morning some of those women 
would still be in the parlor, and, to save her soul, she 
could not now imagine what it was that kept them 
there like hounds upon her track. 

It was now eleven o’clock. When had the Port 
house been open so late as that f The people in the 
town must be talking about it, and there would be 
more talking the next day. Perhaps it might be in 
the town paper. The morning would be worse than 
the night. She could not bear it any longer. There 
was now nothing to be heard in front but that mad- 
dening chatter in the parlor, and up the back stairs 
came the snores of the servant. She got a travelling- 
bag from a closet and proceeded to pack it ; then she 
put on her bonnet and shawl, and put into her bag all 
the money she had with her, trembling all the time 
322 


THE DORCAS ON GUARD 


as if she had been a thief robbing her own house. She 
could not go down the back stairs, because, as has been 
said, she could have been seen from the parlor ; but a 
carpenter had been mending the railing of a little 
piazza at the back of the house, and she remembered 
he had left his ladder. Down this ladder, with her 
bag in her hand, Miss Port silently moved. She 
looked into the kitchen ; she could not see the servant, 
but she could hear her snoring on a bench. Clapping 
her hand over the girl’s mouth, she whispered into her 
ear, and without a word the frightened creature sat 
up and followed Miss Port into the yard. 

“Now, then,” said Miss Port, whispering as if she 
were sticking needles into the frightened girl, “I’m 
goin’ away, and don’t you ask no questions, for you 
won’t get no answers. You just go to bed, and let 
them people stay in the parlor all night. They’ll be 
able to take care of the house, I guess, and if they don’t 
I’ll make ’em suffer. In the morning you can see 
Mrs. Faulkner— for she’s the ringleader— and tell her 
that you’re goin’ home to your mother, and that Miss 
Port expects her to pull down all the blinds in this 
house, and shut and bolt the doors. She is to see that 
the eatables is put away proper or else give to the 
poor,— which will be you, I guess,— and then she is to 
lock all the doors and take the front-door key to 
Squire Allen, and tell him I’ll write to him. And 
what’s more, you can say to the nasty thing that if I 
find anything wrong in my house, or anything missin’, 
I’ll hold her and her husband responsible for it, and 
that I’m mighty glad I don’t belong to their church.” 

Then she slipped out of the back gate of the yard, 
and made her way swiftly to the railroad station. 

323 


THE CAPTAINS TOLL-GATE 


There was a train for the North which passed Glenford 
at half-past twelve, and which could be flagged. There 
was one man at the station, and he was very much sur- 
prised to see Miss Port. 

“Is anything the matter?” he said. 

“Yes,” she snapped ; “there’s some people sick, and 
I guess there’ll be more of ’em a good deal sicker in 
the morning. I’ve got to go.” 

“A case of pizenin’?” asked the man very ear- 
nestly. 

“Yes,” said she, wrapping her shawl around her ; 
“the worst kind of pizenin’ ! ” Then she talked no 
more. 

The servant-girl slept late, and there were a good 
many ladies in the parlor when she came down. She 
did not give them a chance to ask her anything, but 
told her message promptly. It was a message pretty 
fairly remembered, although it had grown somewhat 
sharper in the night. When it was finished the girl 
added : “And I’m to have all the eatables in the house 
to take home to my mother, and Squire Allen is to pay 
me four dollars and seventy-five cents, which has been 
owin’ to me for wages for ever so long.” 


324 


CHAPTEK XXXVI 


COLD TINDER 

Olive and Dick Lancaster sat together in the cap- 
tain’s parlor. She was very quiet, —she had been very 
quiet of late,— but he was nervous. 

“It is very kind, Mr. Lancaster,” said Olive, break- 
ing the silence, “for you to come to see us instead of 
writing. It is so much pleasanter for friends—” 

“Oh, it was not kind,” he said, interrupting her. 
“In fact, it was selfishness. And now I want to tell 
you quickly, Miss Asher, while I have the chance, the 
reason of my coming here to-day. It was not to offer 
you my congratulations or my sympathy, although you 
must know that I feel for you and your uncle as much 
in every way as any living being can feel. I came to 
offer my love. I have loved you, almost ever since I 
knew you, as much as any man can love a woman, and 
whenever I have been with you I could hardly hold 
myself back from telling you. But I was strong, and I 
did not speak, for I knew you did not love me.” 

Olive was listening, looking steadily at him. 

“No,” she said, “I did not love you.” 

He paid no attention to this remark, as if it related 
to something which he knew all about, but went on : “I 
resolved to speak to you sometime, but not until I had 
325 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


some little bit of a reason for supposing you would 
listen to me ; but when I read the account of what you 
did in Washington, I knew you to be so far above even 
the girl I had supposed you to be ; then my love came 
down upon me and carried me away. And all that 
has since appeared in the papers has made me so long to 
stand by your side that I could not resist this longing, 
and I felt that no matter what happened, I must come 
and tell you all.” 

“And now? ” asked Olive. 

“There is nothing more,” said Dick. “I have told 
you all there is. I love you so truly that it seems to me 
as if I had been born, as if I had lived, as if I had grown 
and had worked, simply that I might be able to come 
to you and say, I love you. And now that I have told 
you this, I hope that I have not pained you.” 

“You have not pained me,” said Olive, “but it is 
right that I should say to you that I do not love you.” 
She said this very quietly and gently, but there was 
sadness in her tones. 

Dick Lancaster sprang up, and stood before her. 
“Then let me love you ! ” he cried. “Do not deny me 
that ! Do not take the life out of me ! the soul out of 
me ! Do not turn me away into utter blackness ! Do 
not say I shall not love you ! ” 

Olive’s clear, thoughtful eyes were looking into his. 
“I believe you love me,” she answered slowly. “I 
believe every word you say. But what I say is also 
true. I will admit that I have asked myself if I could 
love you. There was a time when I was in great 
trouble, when I believed that it might be possible for 
me to marry some one without loving him, but I never 
thought that about you. You were different. I could 
326 


COLD TINDER 


not have married you without loving you. I believe 
you knew that, and so you did not ask me.” 

His voice was husky when he spoke again. 

“But you do not answer me,” he said. “You have 
seen into my very soul. May I love you ? ” 

She still looked into his glowing eyes, but she did 
not speak. It was with herself she was communing, 
not with him. 

But there was something in the eyes which looked 
into his which made his heart leap, and he leaned for- 
ward. 

“Olive,” he whispered, “can you not love me? ” 

Her lips appeared as if they were about to move, but 
they did not, and in the next moment they could not. 
He had her in his arms. 

Poor, foolish, lovely Olive ! She thought she was so 
strong. She imagined that she knew herself so well. 
She had seen so much, she had been so far, she had 
known so many things and people, that she had come 
to look upon herself as the decider of her own des- 
tiny. She had come to believe so much in herself and 
in her cold heart that she was not afraid to listen to 
the words of a burning heart ! Her heart could keep 
so cool ! 

And now, in a flash, the fire had spread ! The coolest 
hearts are often made of tinder. 

Poor, foolish, lovely, happy Olive ! She scarcely 
understood what had happened to her. She only knew 
that she had been born, and had lived, and had grown, 
that he might come to her and say he loved her. What 
had she been thinking of all this time ? 

“You are so quick,” she said, as she put back some 
of her dishevelled hair. 


327 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


“Dearest, ” he whispered, “it seems to me as if I 
had been so slow, so slow, so very slow ! ” 

It was a long time before Captain Asher returned, 
and when he entered the parlor he found these two 
still there. They had been sitting by the window, 
and when they came forward to meet him Dick’s arm 
was around the waist of Olive. The captain looked 
at them for a moment, and then he gave a shout, and 
encircled them both in his great arms. 

When they were cool enough to sit down, and Olive 
and Dick had ceased trying to persuade the captain 
that he was not the happiest of the three, Olive said 
to him : “I have told Dick everything— about the 
air-gun and all. Of course, he must know it.” 

“And I have been looking at you,” said Dick, put- 
ting his hand upon the captain’s shoulder, “as the only 
hero I have ever met. Not only for what you have 
done, but for what you have refrained from doing.” 

“Nonsense ! ” said the captain. “Olive, now — ” 

“Oh, Olive is Olive ! ” said Dick. And he did not 
mind in the least that the captain was present. 

It was on the next afternoon that the Broadstone 
carriage stopped at the toll-gate. Mrs. Easterfield 
sprang out of it, asking for nobody, for she had spied 
Olive in the arbor. 

“It seems to me,” she said, as she burst into tears 
and took the girl into her arms, “it does seem to me 
as if I were your own mother ! ” 

“The only one I have,” said Olive, “and very 
dear ! ” 

It was some time after this that Mrs. Easterfield 
was calm enough to stop the flow of exciting conver- 
328 


COLD TINDER 


sation and to say to Olive, taking both her hands ten- 
derly within her own : “My dear, we have been 
talking a great deal of sentiment, and now I want 
seriously to speak to you on a matter of business.” 

“Business ! ” asked Olive, in surprise. 

“Yes, it is really business from your point of view ; 
and I have come round to that point of view myself. 
Olive, I want you to marry ! ” 

“Oh,” said Olive, “that is it, is it? That is what 
you call business ? ” 

“Yes, dear; I am now looking at your future, and 
at marriage in the very sensible way you regarded 
those matters when you were staying with me.” 

“But,” said Olive, who could scarcely help laugh- 
ing, “there was a good reason then for my being so 
sensible, and that reason no longer exists. I can now 
afford single-blessedness.” 

“No, Olive, dear, you cannot. Circumstances are 
all against that consummation. You are not made 
for that sort of thing. And your uncle is an old man, 
and even with him you need a young protector. I 
want you to marry Richard Lancaster. You know 
my heart has been set on it for some time, and now 
I urge it. You could never bring forth a single 
objection to him.” 

“Except that I did not love him.” 

“Neither did you love the young men you were 
considering as eligible. Now, do try to be a sensi- 
ble girl.” 

“Mrs. Easterfield, are you laughing at me?” asked 
Olive. 

“Far from it, my dear. I am desperately in ear- 
nest. You see, recent events—” 

329 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


“Dick Lancaster and I are engaged to be mar- 
ried / 7 said Olive demurely, not waiting for the end 
of that sentence. “And / 7 she added, laughing at 
Mrs. Easterfield 7 s astonished countenance, “I have 
not yet considered whether or not it is sensible . 77 

After Mrs. Easterfield had given a half-dozen 
kisses to partly express her pleasure, she said : “And 
where is he now ? I must see him ! 77 

“He went back to his college late last night ; it 
was impossible for him to stay here any longer at 
present . 77 

As Mrs. Easterfield was going away— she had 
waited and waited for the captain, who had not come 
—Olive detained her. 

“You are so dear / 7 she said, “that I must tell you 
a great thing . 77 And then she told the story of the 
two men in the barouche. 

Mrs. Easterfield turned pale, and sat down again. 
She had actually lost her self-possession. She made 
Olive tell her the story over and over again. “It is 
too much / 7 she said, “for one day. I am glad the 
captain is not here ; I would not know what to say to 
him. I may tell Tom ? 77 she said. “I must tell him ; 
he will be silent as a rock . 77 

Olive smiled. “Yes, you may tell Tom / 7 she said. 
“I have told Dick. But on no account must Harry 
ever know anything about it . 77 

Mrs. Easterfield looked at her in amazement. That 
the girl could joke at such a moment ! 

When the captain came home Olive told him how 
she had intrusted the great secret to Mrs. Easterfield 
and her husband. 


330 


COLD TINDER 


“Well,” said he, “I intended to tell you, but 
haven’t had a chance yet, that I spoke of the matter 
to Mrs. Faulkner. So I have told two persons and 
you have told three, and I suppose that is about the 
proportion in which men and women keep secrets.” 


331 


CHAPTER XXXVII 


IN WHICH SOME GREAT CHANGES ARE RECORDED 

A few days after his return to his college Professor 
Richard Lancaster found among his letters one signed 
“Your backer, Claude Locker.” 

The letter began : 

“ You owe her to me. You should never forget that. 
If I had done better no one can say what might have 
been the result. This proposition cannot be gainsaid, for 
as no one ever saw me do better, how should anybody 
know? I knew I was leaving her to you. She might not 
have known it, but I did. I did not suppose it would 
come so soon, but I was sure it would ultimately come to 
pass. It has come to pass, and I feel triumphant. In the 
great race in which I had the honor to run, you made a 
most admirable second. The best second is he who comes 
in first. In order for a second to take first place it is nec- 
essary that the leader in the race, be that leader horse, 
man, or boat, should experience a change in conditions. 
I experienced such a change, voluntary or involuntary 
it is unnecessary to say. You came in first, and I con- 
gratulate you as no living being can congratulate you 
who has not felt for a moment or two that it was barely 
possible that he might, in some period of existence, oc- 
cupy the position which you now hold. 

“ Do not be surprised if you hear of my early marriage. 
332 


GREAT CHANGES ARE RECORDED 


Some woman no better-looking than I am may seek me 
out. If this should happen, and you know of it, please 
think of me with gratitude, and remember that I was 
once 

“ Your backer, 

“Claude Locker.” 

Olive also received a letter from Mr. Locker, which 
ran thus : 

“Mrs. Easterfield told me. She wrote me a letter 
about it, and I think her purpose was to make me thor- 
oughly understand that I was not in this matter at all. 
She did not say anything of the kind, but I think she 
thought it would be a dreadful thing if, by any act of 
mine, I should cause you to reconsider your arrange- 
ment with Professor Lancaster. I have written to the 
said professor, and have told him that it is not improb- 
able that I shall soon marry. I don’t know yet to what 
lady I shall be united, but I believe in the truth of the 
adage that * all things come to those who cannot wait. ’ 
They are in such a hurry that they take what they can 
get. 

“ If you do not think that this is a good letter, please 
send it back and I will write another. What I am trying 
to say is that I would sacrifice my future wife, no mat- 
ter who she may be, to see you happy. And now be- 
lieve me always 

“Your most devoted acquaintance, 

‘ ‘ Claude Locker. 

“ P.S. Wouldn’t it be a glorious thing if you were to 
be married in church, with all the rejected suitors as 
groomsmen and Lancaster as an old Roman conqueror 
with the captive princess tied behind! ” 

Now that all the turmoil of her life was over, and 
Olive at peace with herself, her thoughts dwelt with 

333 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


some persistency upon two of her rejected suitors. 
Until now she had had but little comprehension of the 
love a man may feel for a woman, — perhaps because 
she herself never loved, — but now she looked back 
upon that period of her life at Broadstone with a good 
deal of compunction. At that time it had seemed to 
her that it really made very little difference to her 
three lovers which one she accepted, or if she rejected 
them all. But now she asked herself if it could be 
possible that Du Brant and Hemphill had for her any- 
thing of the feeling she now had for Dick Lancaster. 
(Locker did not trouble her mind at all.) If so, she 
had treated them with a cruel and shameful careless- 
ness. She had really intended to marry one of them, 
but not from any good and kind feeling : she was ac- 
tuated solely by pique and self-interest ; and she had, 
perhaps, sacrificed honest love to her selfishness, and, 
what was worse, had treated it with what certainly 
appeared like contempt, although she certainly had 
not intended that. 

She felt truly sorry, and cast about in her mind for 
some means of reparation. She could think of but one 
way : to find for each of them a very nice girl— a great 
deal nicer than herself— and to marry them all with 
her blessing. But, unfortunately for this scheme, 
Olive had no girl friends. She had acquaintances 
“picked up here and there,” as she said, but she knew 
very little about any of them, and not one of them had 
ever struck her as being at all angelic or superior in 
any way. Neither of the young men who were lying 
so heavily on her mind had written to any one, either 
at the toll-gate or at Broadstone, since the very pub- 
lic affair in which she had played a conspicuous part ; 

334 


GREAT CHANGES ARE RECORDED 


and her consolation was that as each one had read 
that account he had said to himself : “I am thankful 
that girl did not accept me ! What a fortunate es- 
cape ! ” But still she wished that she had behaved 
differently at Broadstone. 

She said nothing to any one of these musings, but 
she ventured one day to ask Mr. Easterfield how Mr. 
Hemphill was faring. His reply was only half satis- 
factory. He reported the young man as doing very 
well, and being well ; he was growing fat, and that did 
not improve his looks ; and he was getting more and 
more taciturn and self-absorbed. Why was he taci- 
turn? Olive asked herself. Was he brooding and 
melancholy ? She did not know anything about the 
fat, and what might be its primal cause ; but her mind 
was not set at ease about him. 

Things went on quietly and pleasantly at the toll- 
gate, and at Broadstone. Hick came down as often as 
he could and spent a day or two (usually including 
a Sunday) with Olive and her uncle. It was now Oc- 
tober, and colleges were in full tide. It was also the 
hunting season, and that meant that Mr. Tom would 
be at Broadstone for a couple of weeks, and Mrs. Eas- 
terfield said she must have Olive at that time. And, in 
order to make the house lively, she invited Lieuten- 
ant Asher and his wife at the same time, as Olive and 
her young stepmother were now very good friends. 
Then the captain invited his old friend, Captain Lan- 
caster, Hick’s father, to visit him at the toll-gate. 

These were bright days for these old shipmates ; 
and, strange to say, as they sat and puffed, they did 
not talk so much of things that had been as they 
puffed and made plans of things which were to be. 

335 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


And these plans always concerned the niece of one and 
the son of the other. Captain Asher was not at all 
satisfied with Dick’s position in the college. He 
could not see how eminence awaited any young man 
who taught theories ; he would like Dick’s future to 
depend on facts. 

“Two and two make four,” said he ; “there is no 
need of any theory about that, and that’s the sort of 
thing that suits me.” 

Captain Lancaster smiled. He was a dry old salt, 
and listened more than he talked. 

“Just now,” he remarked, “I guess Dick will stick 
to his theories, and for a while he won’t be apt to 
give his mind to mathematics very much, except to 
that kind of figuring which makes him understand 
that one and one makes one.” 

There was a thing the two old mates were agreed 
upon. No matter what Dick’s position might be in 
the college, his salary should be as large as that of any 
other professor. They could do it, and they would 
do it. They liked the idea, and they shook hands 
over it. 

Olive was greatly pleased with Captain Lancaster. 
“There is the scent of the sea about him,” she wrote 
to Dick, “as there is about TJncle John and father, 
but it is different. It is constant and fixed, like the 
smell of salt mackerel. He would never keep a toll- 
gate ; nor would he marry a young wife. Not that I 
object to either of these things, for if the one had not 
happened I would never have known you ; and if the 
other had not happened, I might not have become 
engaged to you.” 

The two captains dined at Broadstone while Olive 
336 


GREAT CHANGES ARE RECORDED 


was there, and Captain Lancaster highly approved of 
Mrs. Easterfield. All seafaring men did— as well as 
most other men. 

“It is a shame she had to marry a landsman,” said 
Captain Lancaster, when he and Captain John had 
gone home. “It seems to me she would have suited 
you.” 

“You might mention that the next time you go to 
her house,” said Captain Asher. “I don’t believe it 
has ever been properly considered.” 

It was at this time that Olive’s mind was set at rest 
about one of her discarded lovers. Mr. Du Brant 
wrote her a letter. 

“My dear Miss Asher: It is very long since I 
have had any communication with you, but this silence 
on my part has been the result of circumstances, and 
not owing, I assure you upon my honor, to any diminu- 
tion of the great regard (to use a moderate term) which 
I feel for you. I had not the pleasure of seeing you 
when I left Broadstone, but our mutual friend Mrs. Eas- 
terfield told me you had sent to me a message. I firmly 
(but I trust politely) declined to receive it. And so, my 
dear Miss Asher, as the offer I made you then has never 
received any acknowledgment, I write now to renew it. 
I lay my heart at your feet, and entreat you to do me 
the honor of accepting my hand in marriage. 

“And let me here frankly state that when first I read 
of your great deed— you are aware, of course, to what 
I refer— I felt I must banish all thought of you from 
my heart. Let me explain my position. I had just re- 
ceived news of the death of my uncle, Count Rosetra, 
and that I had inherited his title and estates. It is a 
noble name, and the estates are great. Could I confer 
these upon one who was being so publicly discussed— 

337 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 

the actor in so terrible a drama? I owed more to society, 
and to my noble race, and to my country than I had 
done before becoming a noble. But ah, my torn heart! 
Oh, Miss Asher, that heart was true to you through all, 
and has asserted itself in a vehement way. I recognized 
your deed as noble; I thought of your beauty and your 
intellect; of your attractive vivacity; of your manner 
and bearing, all so fine; and I realized how you would 
grace my title and my home; how you would help me 
to carry out the great ambitions I have. 

“ Will you, lady, deign to accept my homage and my 
love? A favorable answer will bring me to make my 
personal solicitations. 

“ Your most loving and faithful servant, 

“ Christian Du Brant.” 

“ (now Count Rosetra).” 


“What a bombastic mixture ! ” thought Olive, as 
she read this effusion. “I wonder if there is any real 
love in it ! If there is, it is so smothered it is easily 
extinguished.” 

And she extinguished it ; and thoughts of Count 
Rosetra troubled her no more. 

She did not show Dick this letter, but she thought 
it due to Mrs. Easterfield to read it to her. “He has 
got it into his head that an American woman, such as 
you, will make his house attractive to people he wants 
there,” commented that lady. “You have not con- 
sidered me at all, you ungrateful girl ! Only think 
how I could have exploited ‘my friend the coun- 
tess ’ ! And what a fine place for me to visit ! ” 

It had been arranged by the two houses that Dick 
and Olive should be married in the early summer, 
when the college closed ; and Mrs. Easterfield had ar- 
338 


GREAT CHANGES ARE RECORDED 


ranged in her own mind that the wedding should be 
in her city house. It would not be too late in the 
season for a stylish wedding— a thing Mrs. Easterfield 
had often wished she could arrange, and it was hope- 
less to think of waiting until her little ones could 
help her to this desire of her heart. She held this 
great secret in reserve, however, for a delightful sur- 
prise at the proper time. 

But she and Olive both had a wedding surprise be- 
fore Olive’s visit was finished. It was, in fact, the day 
before Olive’s return to the toll-gate that Mr. Easter- 
field walked in upon them as they were sitting at 
work in Mrs. Easterfield’s room. He had been unex- 
pectedly summoned to the city three days before, 
and had gone with no explanation to his wife. She 
did not think much about it, as he was accustomed to 
going and coming in a somewhat erratic manner. 

“It seems to me,” she said, looking at him crit- 
ically after the first greetings, “that you have an im- 
portant air.” 

“I am the bearer of important news,” he said, puf- 
fing out his cheeks. 

In answer to the battery of excited inquiries which 
opened upon him, he finally said : “I was solemnly 
invited to town to attend a solemn function, and I 
solemnly went, and am now solemnly returned.” 

“Pshaw!” said Mrs. Easterfield. “I don’t believe 
it’s anything.” 

“A wedding is something— a very great something. 
It is a solemn thing j and made more solemn by the 
loss of my secretary.” 

“What ! ” almost screamed his wife. “Mr. Hemp- 
hill? ” 


339 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


“The very man. And oh, Miss Olive, if you could 
but have seen him in his wedding-clothes your heart 
would have broken to think that you had lost the 
opportunity of standing by them at the altar.’ 7 

“But who was the bride? ” asked Mrs. Easterfield, 
impatiently. 

“Miss Eliza Grogworthy.” 

“Now, Tom, I know you are joking ! Why can’t 
you be serious?” 

“I am as serious as were that couple. I have 
known her for some time, and she was very visible.” 

“Why, she is old enough to be his mother ! ” 

“Not quite, my dear. In such a case as this one 
must be particular about ages. She is a few years 
older than he is probably, but she is not bad looking, 
and a good woman with a nice big house and lots of 
money. He has walked out of my office into a fine 
position, and I unselfishly congratulated him with all 
my heart.” 

“Poor Mr. Hemphill ! ” sighed Olive. She was 
thinking of the very young man she had sighed for 
when a very young girl. 

“He needs no pity,” said Mr. Easterfield, seriously. 
“I should not be surprised if he feels glad that he 
was not— well, we won’t say what,” he added, look- 
ing mischievously at Olive. “This is really a great 
deal better thing for him. He is not a favorite of 
my wife, but he is a thoroughly good fellow in his 
way, and I have always liked him. There were cer- 
tain things necessary to him in this life, and he has 
got them. That cannot be said about everybody, by 
a long shot ! No ; he is to be congratulated.” 

Olive was silent. She was trying to make up her 
340 


GREAT CHANGES ARE RECORDED 


mind that he was really to be congratulated, and to 
get rid of a lingering doubt. 

“Well, that is the end of him in our affairs !” ex- 
claimed Mrs. Easterfield. “Why didn’t you tell us 
what you were going to town for ? ” 

“Because he asked me not to mention it to any 
one. And, besides, that is not all I went to town 
for.” 

“Oh ! ” said his wife. “Any more weddings? ” 

“No,” said Mr. Easterfield, helping himself to an 
easy-chair. “You know I have lately been so much 
with nautical people I have acquired a taste for the 
sea.” 

“I did not know it,” said his wife ; “but what of it ? ” 

“Well, as Lieutenant Asher and his wife are here 
yet, and have no earthly reason for being anywhere 
in particular ; and as Captain Asher seems to be tired 
of the toll-gate ; and as Captain Lancaster doesn’t 
care where he is ; and as Miss Olive doesn’t know 
what to do with herself until it is time for her to get 
married ; and as you are always ready to go gadding ; 
and as the children need bracing up ; and as you can- 
not get along without Miss Raleigh ; and as Mrs. 
Blynn is a good housekeeper ; and as I have an offer 
for renting our town house ; I propose that we all go 
to sea together.” 

The two ladies had listened breathlessly to these 
words, and now Olive sprang up in great excitement, 
and Mrs. Easterfield clapped her hands in delight. 

“How clever you are, Tom!” she exclaimed. 
“What a splendid idea ! How can we go? ” 

“I have leased a yacht, and we are going to the 
Mediterranean.” 


341 


CHAPTER XXXVIII 


“IT has just begun ! ” 

This wonderful scheme which Mr. Easterfield had 
planned and carried out met with general favor. 
Perhaps if they had all been consulted before he 
made the plan there would have been many altera- 
tions, and discussions, and doubts. But the thing 
was done, and there was nothing to say but “Yes” or 
“Ho.” The time had come for the house party at 
Broadstone to break up, and the lieutenant and Mrs. 
Asher had arranged to spend the next few months in 
the city ; but they gladly accepted Mr. Easterfield’s 
generous invitation, and would return to the toll-gate 
after a few weeks preparatory to sailing, that the 
party might get together, for Captain Lancaster was 
to remain at the tollhouse. Mr. Easterfield also in- 
vited Claude Locker “to make things lively in rough 
weather,” and that young man accepted with much 
alacrity. 

Mrs. Easterfield was in such a state of delight that 
she nearly lost her self-possession. Sometimes, her 
husband told her, she scarcely spoke rationally. If 
she had been asked to wish anything that love or 
money could bring her, it would have been this very 
thing ; but she would not have believed it possible. 
She was busy everywhere, planning for everybody, 
342 


“IT HAS JUST BEGUN!” 


and making out various lists. But, as she said, there 
is a little black spot in almost every joy. And her 
little black spot was Dick Lancaster. 

“Poor Professor Lancaster ! ” she said to her hus- 
band. “We to have such a great pleasure, and he shut 
up in close rooms ! And Olive far away ! ” 

“Are you sure about Olive? ” asked Mr. Easterfield. 
“She has never said positively that she is going. I 
most earnestly hope that she will not back out because 
Lancaster cannot go. If she stays her uncle will stay.” 

“And for that very reason she will go,” said Mrs. 
Easterfield. “And I think Professor Lancaster will 
urge her to go. He is unselfish enough, I am sure, to 
wish her to have this great pleasure. And, talking of 
Olive, one thing is certain, Tom : we must be back early 
in the spring. There will be a great deal to do before 
the wedding. And oh, Tom, I will tell you— but you 
must not tell any one, for I am keeping it for a sur- 
prise —I am going to give them a fine wedding. They 
will be married in church, of course, but' the reception 
will be at our house. You will like that, I know.” 

“Will there be good eating?” 

“Plenty of it.” 

“Then I shall like it.” 

All this was very well, but, nevertheless, this talk 
made the enthusiastic lady a little uneasy. It was true 
Olive had never said in words conclusively whether she 
would go or not. But she was extremely anxious that 
her father should go, and she implicitly followed Mrs. 
Easterfield’s directions in making preparations for 
him, and was just as earnest in making her own 5 and 
her friend was certainly justified in thinking all this 
was a tacit consent. 


343 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


As for the two captains, they were so delighted at 
this heavenly prospect that they gave up talking about 
Dick and Olive, and read guide-books to each other, 
and studied maps and sea-charts until their brains 
were nearly addled. They were a source of great 
amusement to the young people when Dick came for 
his frequent short visits. 

It was evident to all interested that Professor 
Lancaster approved of the expedition, for he entered 
heartily into all the talk about the various places to be 
visited, and all that was to be done on the vessel ; and 
he did not bore them with any lamentations in regard 
to the coming separation between him and Olive. 
And, of course, every one respected his feelings, and 
said nothing to him about it. 

The weeks went by ; all the preparations were made ; 
and at last the time came when the company were to 
assemble at the toll-gate and Broadstone before the final 
plunge into the unknown. Olive wished to have them 
all to dinner on the first day of this short visit. 

“Our house is a little one,” she said to Mrs. Eas- 
terfield, “but we can make it big enough. You know 
nautical people understand how to do that. What a 
jolly company we shall have ! You know Dick will be 
there.” 

“Yes, poor Dick ! ” sighed Mrs. Easterfield, when 
Olive had left. 

The Easterfields, with Lieutenant Asher and his 
wife, arrived very promptly at the toll-gate on that 
important day, and their drive through the bright, 
crisp air put them in a merry mood. They had hoped 
to bring Mr. Locker, but he had not arrived. They 
found two captains at the toll-gate in even merrier 
344 


“IT HAS JUST BEGUN !” 


mood. Dick Lancaster was there, having arrived that 
morning, and they were none of them surprised that he 
looked serious. The ladies were not immediately 
asked to go up -stairs to remove their wraps, for Olive 
was not there to receive them. She soon, however, 
made her appearance in a lovely white dress that had 
been made for the trip under Mrs. Easterfield’s super- 
vision. Dick Lancaster immediately got up from his 
chair and joined her • and the Rev. Mr. Faulkner ap- 
peared from some mysterious place, and the aston- 
ished guests were treated to a very pretty marriage 
ceremony. 

It was soon over, and the two jolly captains laughed 
heartily at the bewilderment of the Broadstone party. 
And then there was a wild time of hand-shaking and 
congratulations and embracing. By his wife’s orders, 
Mr. Tom kissed Olive, which seemed perfectly 
proper to everybody except Mrs. Lieutenant Asher. 
She was also a young bride, with no similar experi- 
ences. 

Later, when all were composed, Olive explained. 
“What has happened just now is all on account of 
Mr. Easterfield’s invitation. I wrote immediately to 
Dick, and we settled it between us that he would ask 
for a vacation,— they always give vacations when pro- 
fessors are married, and he knew of some one to take 
his place— and then we would be married, and ask Mr. 
and Mrs. Easterfield to invite us to take our wedding 
trip with them. Dick had to stay at the college until 
the last minute almost, and so we didn’t say anything 
about the wedding— and we were both afraid of— well, 
we don’t like a fuss— and so we planned this. And 
when Dick came he brought the license and Mr. Faulk - 
345 


THE CAPTAIN’S TOLL-GATE 


ner. And now I don’t see how Mr. Easterfield can 
help inviting us.” 

Mr. Easterfield was standing by his wife, and as 
Olive finished her explanation he took his wife’s hand 
and gave it a gentle squeeze of sympathy ; and that 
heroic woman never flinched ; nor did she ever say one 
word about that pretty wedding she had planned for 
the spring. 

They had all nearly finished the fried chicken with 
white sauce when Claude Locker arrived. He had 
missed the regular train and had come on a freight ; 
had got a horse when he reached Broadstone. 

“I am more tired than if I had walked,” he grum- 
bled. “I am always in bad luck ! I am an unlucky 
dog ! But you are so good you will excuse me, Miss 
Asher.” 

“That is not my name,” said Olive, gravely. 

And with both eyes of the same size, Mr. Locker 
looked around, wondering why everybody was laugh- 
ing. 

“Let me introduce Mrs. Lancaster,” said Hick, with 
a bow. 

“Do you mean,” cried Locker, starting up, “that 
this thing is really done f ” 

“No,” said Olive j “it has just begun.” 


346 






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